Simple Things
by kanashii-bb
Summary: There is absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura Kinomoto's life. A lovely girl with her dreams in sync to her reality, what exactly could she be so worked up about? Easy, love. But, what if she found it in the unlikeliest of places, right behind her?
1. First Impressions

Full Summary:

Unlike most people, Sakura Kinomoto is seemingly perfect. She is a clean-cut, charming and sensible senior at a prestigious magnet school. She fails to blend in, as the valedictorian of her senior class; she seems to fit right into success without a speck of calamity. What is so wrong with her life worth of inspection? Love. Practically inexistent in her diminishing teenage youth, Sakura is intent on finding her missing puzzle piece, and she'll find it in the unlikeliest of places, or perhaps in the unlikeliest of people.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura rightfully belongs to CLAMP, who else?

* * *

Is she ever out of place? Perhaps in a filthy junkyard, overcrowded with filthy punks and filthy garbage music, then she is out of place. You might see her on a Sunday morning, picking up fresh pastries from the local bakery for her family, or on a Wednesday night, working on her volunteering hours at Tomoeda's only hospital. Her smile seems to operate the solar and lunar rotations. Always present when they are present, you might say. She listens to sounds of the past; adoring Buddy Holly on her bike ride to school, or humming along to Electric Light Orchestra. But always basking in the present with Belle & Sebastian. Why is she sitting in front of me? Doesn't the teacher know she is different? Terada sensei needs a sense of reality, and in reality, she deserves the front, not the back. The back seems to be the desired spot for those who enjoy sleeping during class, who don't mind gazing out the window and into the clouds regardless if they'll miss a lecture concerning a semester exam. I see her every morning straining her neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of the numbers sprawled on the screen, squinting above Chiharu Mihara's braids, but never complaining.

Why is her perfection so annoying?

I don't know why I find myself thinking about her in Calculus all the time. It really is obsessive, I'm afraid it might be unhealthy, but with that canny mind and face of hers, it's no wonder I do. And then the guilt sets in, telling me, "Syaoran Li, you have an unfaithful mind! Dissecting a girl who isn't your own girlfriend…" But do you blame me? I bet everyone in Tomoeda Academy has a 'Sakura Kinomoto time'.

Mine just normally happens to be when she's sitting right in front of me in Calculus. And in every other class she sits ahead of me.

"Alright class, see you all tomorrow, and remember to bring a photo of your summer!"

Terada sensei hopelessly called after the group of students thoughtlessly exiting his classroom, but he still smiled, knowing they had listened. I packed my books in my backpack, and headed towards the door, only who else but Sakura to block my way. Her back was facing me, as she scrambled all her materials into her Hello Kitty bag. So childish, and yet, it just doesn't demean any bit of her.

"Excuse me" I monotonously, though politely, call to her.

She jumps a bit, and turns reluctantly.  
Jeez, you're not in a horror film, you're in a classroom. I'm another student, just like you. Although, not at all like you

"Ah, sorry Li-san" she glides a few steps back, dropping a few of her pencils.

I keep walking, she's capable, I know. And who asked her to perform such a dramatic scene? All she had to do was move a little, even if she apologized at my expense.

I leave the classroom without another word, all my thoughts of Sakura Kinomoto descending, my irritation and admiration no more. Heading down the halls, I catch a glimpse of my girlfriend, Rika Sasaki. A breath of reality, I feel safe just then. You see, Rika is warm and optimistic, and yet, she's also shy and clumsy. Faults of hers I like, because they're reminders I am not dreaming. They tell me reality can be pleasant, like Rika. She's no Sakura Kinomoto.

"Syaoran!" she calls me, happily skipping my direction. Her eyes brown as ever, her short copper hair hugging at her cheeks. She's as real as I'd like her to be.

"Rika, hey, I was just looking for you" I lie, but she'll appreciate this.

As I thought, her smile remains, while she takes a few steps towards me, her hands on my chest.

"Neh, Syaoran…such lies"

Grinning at her unusual sarcasm, I notice hints of trivial malice in her eyes, flecks of carelessness. Her smiles are assuring, and still, her eyes notify me otherwise. What exactly is she up to?

"Oh, you think so?" I continue on with our game, although I'm not sure of what exactly we're up to, I follow. Uncertainty betraying my façade of aloofness, I'm sure this lets her know of my confusion.

"Syaoran Li…I know your secret"

At these words, my mind immediately summons Sakura Kinomoto. Dear God, why do this now? Whatever has that light of perfection need from my perfectly average and content life?

"Um…what?" my senses have failed me, she has to know.

Her eyes become stern, her smile is crooked, a Rika I have never encountered stands before me, a hand on her hip, her head cocked a bit, and I feel threatened by the five foot three girl. She isn't speaking…

"Syaoran…I think we should just be friends"

When this happens, I've heard your world stops for a few seconds. Your mind blocks out all pleasant events you may have pretended in your future with said partner, your heart beats once before an erratic pace sends trembles and shakes throughout your body, and the tears…they flow like nature. But that's all I've ever heard, because this did not happen with Rika Sasaki.

Instead, I said, "Okay, that's fine with me" with a casual smile on my lips.

I can tell she's a bit frustrated, I can tell because she bites her lip and nearly prevents a small glare, and I know because she flips me off and turns on her heel. Are relationships always like this? Pleasant, just pleasant…until the pleasantness leaves you, but you're not shaken by it, you're no turmoil of disease; there isn't cloud of gloom possessing of all you thought you knew? I did not experience heartbreak the moment Rika Sasaki began to hate my guts.

I arrived home around 7pm, stopping by to hang out with Eriol really had taken more than usual, as I spread the news, and he celebrated my recently single life. I'm in high school….is this even necessary? You see, Eriol, he's the type of guy who will do anything you absolutely forbid him never to do. He likes dares, he takes risks, and he constantly needs someone bailing him out of trouble. I'm afraid of who he will become when we are older, sometimes. But Eriol's also got a good head on his shoulders; he's certainly smarter than I am where the liberal arts are concerned. He's one of those guys that like to think, but never before they act. He's also got a sensitive stomach.

Throwing my bag on my sofa, I announce I am home, even if no one else is. And I know this; I've become accustomed to this. A home safe with silence and disturbed only by thinking, but it doesn't bother me. I enjoy this because I am an average guy, with a youth's curiosity, and an ambition I can't seem to find. I apologize for the latter.

Turning on my Mac, I change out of my uniform. It's a simple one, white oxford button up, black slacks, and a black sweater vest, our school's logo represented on the vest. It's a rather casual get-up, short sleeves for the summer, long sweaters for the winter, basic things, you know. My e-mail seems to be empty, minus the scouting letters I receive from hungry universities, but I know where I belong. Tokyo University, where else? The majority of my classmates are sticking heartily to Tomoeda, going as far as a four hour drive, why? I don't get it, you have the opportunity to be a slight bit less average in our average town, and yet, people actually embrace its nothingness. Don't get me wrong, I have made my peace with normality, but I dare not to embrace its foundations.

"I'm home!" a few minutes later, I hear my mother arrive, along with my two older sisters. I hear steps coming up towards the stairs and headed for my room.

"Jeez, Xiao Lang, where is your decency?" my older sister, Feimei complains, calling me by my birth name.

"It's eloped with your brain" I shoot right back. Nothing like an innocent sibling showdown.

I feel her eyes glare at the back of my head. She'll never live down being the only Li in our household without a college education (that excluding me, but it's in the works).

"Anyway, Syaoran, mom needs you down immediately, she's got something to tell you"

I groan, mother needing to tell me anything never resulted to my liking. It's always some random obligation I owe to a family member, like, "Xiao Lang! Be a dear and pick up your uncle from the airport, you know he has no sense of direction!" or "_Xiaoo Laaang_!Your grandmother needs her monthly magazine…or else she won't stop bothering me". As if me picking up my uncle and shutting my grandmother's trap would compensate for a lack of direction or inconsiderate yapping.

But I listen all the same, and stand before her writing desk. You see, mother is a crazy artist. She is crazy, how on earth do you support a full grown family with only writing? She has her side projects, but mainly contributes to Tomoeda's sprouting newspaper. I'd be ashamed to say any of her work is about as brilliant as a young Palahniuk, because she is crazy, and she is an artist. There is absolutely no need to tamper with her.

"Xiao Lang, get dressed, we've got a dinner party to attend" sometimes Mother speaks to me in an authoritative tone.

"Dinner party, what for?" I ask, of course.

"You know how mommy's been aiming for publishing with the Amamiya Company?" it's only very awkward whenever Mother transitions from commander in chief to newborn, christened mother, but thanks for the concern.

"Yeah?" I'm not dumb. I can settle two pieces of the puzzle together.

"Well, it just so happens that they've agreed to publishing, so as a seal of the deal, we'll be having dinner with the executive in chief for my project!" if mother could squeal, she would have just now.

"All of us? As in the whole family?" I inwardly groaned, I hate these sorts of events.

"Oh don't be silly, just you, the twins and me" Sighing, I retreated towards my room, knowing exactly what I would wear. White button-up long-sleeve, skinny tie, and slacks, way too simple to even summon up, but it's the simplicity I crave.

Half an hour passed and our household was consumed with perfume. Women truly know how to put on an entire performance on just prepping up. I would know, having lived with five all my life, but thankfully, my two eldest sisters had their own established career.

"Xiao Lang, ready?" Mother asked, as if they were the ones waiting on me.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just go" I say, getting a hold of my sleek black suit.

The twins follow, as we all make room in our family car, which we hardly ever use. Mother has Elvis Costello playing on a low key tune, while a rush of honey colored hair and a vivacity of emerald green eyes brush my clumsily candid mind. I know she adores Elvis Costello. I know she covered one of his songs for our spring festival. She harnesses an infatuation with American and European pop culture I can't seem to understand. Just like her face. It makes no sense.

"Hey, quit dreaming and look sharp, we're here, baka" only Feimei knows how to reel me into reality, and for this one time, I am truly appreciative.

I glance at the ritzy restaurant, the name all too similar on the television. A shelter for the glamorous in Japan, as far as Tomoeda is concerned. A fine charm you wouldn't dare locate in our town, you might also say. I suppose I do feel a sense of pride and elegance entering the marvel of architecture.

"We're here with the Kinomoto's"

…Did I happen to hear my mother right? And just how many Kinomoto's are there in Tomoeda? Please tell me a handful, dear God.

"Ah, right this way" immediately the host brightened up, upon hearing 'Kinomoto's' and cut through any bit of obstacle to seat us in one of the more private areas of the restaurant. We were separated from the rest by our own room. He slid open the paper thin doors, and introduced us to mother's publisher. He was a man of lightly honey kissed hair, spectacles placed before his lucid, sharp eyes and skin a God would envy. For a man well in his forties, he deemed prestige with a glance of his magnificently dashed eyes.

"Yelan, I'm glad you could make it," the distinguished Kinomoto man boldly shook mother's hand, a smile lighting up his ruthless features.

Yelan, mother, whatever, smiled right back, and bowed a bit.

"Of course, Fujitaka," she spoke delicately, "I would like you to meet my daughters Feimei and Fanren, and my son, Xiao Lang".

We all politely bowed and for this one time, met eye to eye.

Could I help thinking he looked all too familiar?

"Pleased to meet you all, really, Yelan, you all couldn't have bared any more resemblance" Fujitaka complimented, I would think. He motioned towards a young man behind him, fashioned with his same sharp, strong eyes. "This is my son, Touya Kinomoto".

We knew he was Fujitaka's son. Only someone standing in possession of excessively good looks would be Fujitaka's son. His hair was not of honey like his father's, but an abundance of dark silk. His eyes did not lie though, Fujitaka was responsible.

"So, shall we begin?" Mother asked, and soon with permission, we all sat down.

"Ah, pardon, but I hope it's alright my daughter arriving in a few minutes" Fujitaka said.

A daughter? Bearing the Kinomoto last name? Lord, let this be a mere coincidence.

"Oh, no inconvenience at all, I mean, the more the merrier, yes?" Mother nervously laughed. I hadn't seen nervous Mother in quite a bit. Refreshing as it was, I also recalled this character got tiresome.

Fujitaka simply smiled, as did Touya, and along with the latter, my sisters blushed feverishly. Being twins, of course, each other's thoughts dance about their brains.

Our menus were handed to us, and looking on the options, I knew we were in unknown territory. There wasn't a price on any item. Therefore, everything had to be expensive. Silently gulping, I glanced at whatever it was my sister's were ordering. They seemed keen on food selections, those two.

"So, Yelan, how are we with 'Chasing Singapore'?" Fujitaka asked about mother's writing project, which began my cue to drone the conversation out, seeing as Touya comfortably situated himself, with charm, with the twins. Every once in a while, I engaged in whoever's conversation touched a relative subject, but for the most part, remained partially observant.

Suddenly, the doors slid open, revealing the sole manifestation of my afternoon fears.

Sakura Kinomoto.

Graced in a 1960s vintage crème and powdered pink, chiffon dress, the pearls lingering on her neck enlightened her eyes with a sincerity of posh. Her long honey colored hair was done up in a classic bun, strands of her wavy hair adorning her lovely face, a pink head band completing her look.

Why me? Ugh, if there is anyone I would not like in my formal, fancy settings, it would be her. As enamoring her face and just about everything seems, I insist, she is annoying and bland with superficial perfection.

"Sakura, about time you've arrived!" Touya's charmed face was replaced with one of alert and impatience. She only rolled her eyes and waved her hand in nonchalance.

"Sorry, sorry, but the student council is just too adamant about this years festival decorations," she groaned, as if showing her distaste with the groups choices.

"Child, we have company," Fujitaka lightly tampered in his children's immediate conversation.

A look of poise replaced Sakura's earlier careless tone, she erected herself, capturing once more her professionalism before falling all over her carefree attitude demonstrated with her entrance. I'm not all that sure whichever I prefer now…

"Oh! I'm Sakura Kinomoto, pleased to meet you all" she bowed lightly, meeting all of our eyes once. Did she not recognize me, or was she pretending not to? I could feel my throat form a small knot, slightly irritated she had not made mention of me. Why should she? I completely ignore her all the time.

"Anyway, Yelan, I was wondering where you planned on expanding with this project?"

And the businesses speak of Fujitaka bored me once more, forcing my attention to the girl seated parallel of me. Sakura sat like she did in most classes, a prim posture erected only by chance of our presence (I hope), and her eyes holding a candor unbeknownst to everything imperfect in the world. Argue with your older brother for a drivel, child, scold your father for mandating your life, sneer at my sisters for being older and free, please do anything that tells me you're real, Sakura, because truthfully, I am sick of you.

"Ah, Li-kun, how are you today?"

Her voice quivered, I heard it, at the beginning.

"Fine"

She drabbled in our air of tension, gasping at the nonexistent formality.

"…so, how did your summer go?"

"You don't have to talk to me, you know" I muttered, the annoyance grappling the few manners I cared for. Something about her is entirely incomplete, I just know it.

The silence that followed us compensated for the bustling conversations everyone shared around us. I felt time stop around us, just the two of us. What makes her so graceful, time even acknowledges her? Oh, when I look at you, Sakura Kinomoto…

"Sorry, I just…well, formalities, you know" her voice was tense; I'm sure, like her muscles, especially after her tumbling routines.

"Well, fuck formalities" this she could handle either way. Either by, 'Fuck it, let's ditch this place and buy all the smoothies we will crave and built sand castles in every sandpit Penguin Park owns (just one, by the way)' or 'Fuck you, leave me alone'. I think I would be in love if my evening was spent smashing sand into our palms.

"Are you always this way?"

Or we could look into my psychological existence, but I don't know what's worse.

"I guess" To say I knew what she meant, would be an insult to my sincerity.

She said nothing else after this, but ordered another Fruit Passion bubble tea, without the tapioca ball. Her drink arrived without hesitation, sitting neatly on her coaster, while she twirled her porcelain fingers on the hem of her dress. I felt terrible, I won't deny, I don't know if it's because I would like to kiss her or if it's because I would like to kiss her and not care that I abhor the idea.

"Eh, Kinomoto, let's go outside"

Her eyes intertwine with mine, we're tangled.

"W-What?" I almost forgot she had questions all the time…British literature class should have reminded me.

"I can tell you're bored because I'm bored" I justified absolutely nothing, but she knew enough of her own boredom.

Emeralds looked down, glancing at her dress, fingers smothering her wrist with indecision.

"Can we get some crepes? I saw this really cute place right around the corner"

My heart tugged inevitably, I'm sure this happens whenever a pretty girl says something childish. Dear God, I can hope, right?

"Father, I need to excuse myself for a while" she politely stated, sliding her chair in as her feet commenced forth the door.

"Likewise" I managed to say.

Neither of our parents turned, but swished their wrists in our favor, drowning in their own words.

The marble doors opened at her service (why not?), while her smile danced heartily on her face. She took steps into the street, her hair in an ornamental atmosphere against Tomoeda's downtown area, cars passing in slow motion. Has the world always been this slow?

"Li-kun, I'm sorry about earlier…I didn't mean to offend or anything, I just thought we could talk"

It may have been the scenery or the crisp warmth of unfaithful security the fall season promised, but her apology resonated with my common sense.

"It's alright, if anything, I guess I should be the one apologizing" I replied.

"So, would you mind starting over?"

Her teeth caught her bottom lip in a trap of uncertainty.

"All the way from kindergarten?" Knowing Sakura all these years, and I'm sure we've never exchanged so many words in one sitting.

"So you don't pretend" she smirked, somehow transfixed in relief.

"Kinomoto, I've sat behind you in nearly every class we've ever had, how could I have missed you"

And this is when her smirk completed my heart beats. Pink lips curved in gratitude, eyes gleamed with acceptance. Sakura Kinomoto took a whole lot to heart.

"But you could have! You know, it is possible"

Oh, no, no, no. Do you even know who you are, Sakura? You are Tomoeda's surviving pulse.

"You? Tomoeda's number one student in everything?"

She grew in coyness and sheepish smiles, eventually rolling her eyes, and waving my accusations with her limp left hand.

"Please…" she responded, but I knew she had more to say.

We kept walking, her Valentino heels clicking the sidewalk; my Oxford's clicking the sidewalk, her charisma and allure poisoning nearly every man that came in her direction. You just cope with Sakura Kinomoto's presence, but you never learn.

"Where exactly is this place anyway?" I asked after a couple seconds.

She looked directly at me, as she teased, "Why? Ready to stuff your face so you don't have to speak with me?"

My lips couldn't help it, "You truly are a sharp girl, Kinomoto, I'm sure Terada –sensei enjoys your lip in literature class"

"Oh well, you know, my wit only comes second best to my –"but before her playful nonsense could proceed any further, I cut in by saying, "Don't even start"

Our footsteps ceased together, her eyes fixed on my face, her grin quick with charm and humility. She spoke soon too, "I'm only agreeing with you, Li-kun, isn't that a start?"

I rolled my eyes at her, a first time without intentions of irritation or dissatisfaction.

We looked at the sign glimmering before us, a café before us bearing the name "Tea Time House", and a scent of pastry delights savoring every inch inside. I held the door for her, the one formality I could spare, and entered the pastel lush of a café. The setting called for Sakura in all her femininity. The wallpaper was a cream colored collage of European streets, more than likely Paris, dashed with underlying tones of gold sparks, and at the borders, pink. At the entrance was the glass displaying all the sweets, behind the counter the coffee machine, ice cream maker, every necessity for this type of café, it seemed. The tables looked of marble, the booths warm with comfort.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

And just to my horror and Sakura's misfortune, Rika stood in her place, behind the counter, only a forced smile twitching with aggravation upon seeing me…alongside Sakura.

"Sasaki-chan, hey, I didn't know you worked here!" Sakura, the polite social metropolis of Tomoeda Academy upheld her reputation in saluting her fellow classmate (if anything, mere acquaintance).

She glared at my sight, rolled her eyes, and replied, eyes glued to her manicured nails,

"Hmm, yeah, I don't remember making a public announcement about it or anything"

Her sarcasm drilled into Sakura's smile, cracking at her left side, I could tell she felt uncomfortable.

"So, anyway, what will it be?" Rika chose to ignore me in the end. But I would take this any other day.

"I'll have a strawberry crepe" Sakura softly spoke, not bothering to add a 'please' or concerning smile. Rika's voice directed towards me, never her eyes. "You?"

"Just an American espresso" and neither did mine. The total came, and I insisted.

"'Kay, your order will be up in a bit, thanks" she monotonously bore into our ears, shoving a receipt along with my change onto the counter top. Just before stomping forth her duties, she lightly flipped her hair in our direction, and absent-mindedly waved her wrist in our presence.

A bitter taste of awkward strain stood between Sakura and me.

"Aren't you going out with her?" she finally asked, and I had a feeling she would.

"Erm, not anymore" I replied.

Sakura discretely looked at me, "I hope she didn't get any ideas…you know, with us here"

I wanted to snort, or smirk in absurdity, roll my eyes in hilarity, slap her silly on her shoulder and say in incredulity, 'Oh, don't be ridiculous!' but I didn't.

I only felt warmth upon my cheeks, and a shrug ensnaring my shoulders.

"Nah" is what I say.

Sakura smiled, she walks up to a booth at the corner of the café, rounded by the serenity of Tomoeda's downtown district.

She looks too pretty, just sitting and waiting.

I follow her, sit parallel once more, and await our conversation. She bothers with nothing, not the stillness of our air, not the staggering curses Rika is surely sending her, and not even the men peeking into her soulful eyes (however soulful a seventeen year-old child may get).

Our order arrives soon enough, definitely not served by Rika, but by a waiter who can't seem to keep from Sakura's smile. I groan inwardly, but understand.

"You know, Li-kun, you aren't as bad as I've assumed"

"You've assumed over me?"

"Don't tell me you haven't done the same"

"No, normally I know who I am"

"I meant over me, baka"

She carelessly insulted me, but this couldn't keep me from forming a small grin. What ever happened?

"Are you going to ignore me at school?" she asked, after swallowing her mouthful of crepe.

I didn't want to, I knew that much, but if she did, I wouldn't bother whatsoever. "We'll see" I said.

And we didn't have to, because along with the fresh morning awaiting me in Calculus, stood Sakura in her desk, bright and early like usual, a smile sketched on her features. A smile no one caught, but regardless, a smile in need of my attention. I waved back.

Sakura Kinomoto, you have officially created a terrible mess.

* * *

How was it?

I would very much appreciate feedback, it'll encourage me to continue. And I know the summary may have been a bit misleading, perhaps in thinking that the POV would be in Sakura's. Truthfully, it will switch between the two from chapter to chapter. But I really wanted to draw Syaoran's thoughts in here first, so just hold on for a bit!

I have good feelings about the outcome of this story, so please allow me to continue. Thank you very much for reading this first chapter :)


	2. I should have known better

Here's chapter two, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura rightfully belongs to CLAMP.

* * *

I've never really liked him. A messy one, a fire eyed boy with nothing to do, but I know I've caught him staring at me once or twice in our twelve years of sitting by each other. Twelve years of nothing, simple words exchanged out of formalities, but never out of charisma or character. What is wrong with him? What is wrong with me? He's a good natured boy, I can feel it, and I can see it, too. Our eyes just never seem to intertwine.

"Hmm, Sakura, how do you think we should paint the backdrop?"

I turn to see a girl with tresses of sleek onyx; she's holding a paint brush not nearly dipped in enough crimson paint.

"Well, the setting is fall, so why not traditional fall colors?" I suggest, thinking about the obvious.

She scrunches her nose and purses her small lips. "Traditional is a little too boring, don't you think?"

Always inventive, Tomoyo, the only other girl I've known all my life, complains.

What do I tell her? Fall is fall, if I could change the weather for you dear Tomoyo, I would, if only you would stop complaining over the clothing covering way too much of my legs during the cold weather. But I can't, so I tell her, "Moyo, our fall festival is traditional" my lips smirking a bit.

She sighs, rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue at the air, particularly not at me, indeed.

"Keep rolling your eyes at me and your brain will pay the consequences"

"Oh for the last time, Sakura, rolling your eyes does not kill brain cells"

"Does too"

"Does not"

"Does too"

"Does not"

"…Oh, Moyo, whatever will we do with that brain of yours"

Our teasing halts with her giggles, while she drops the paint brush gently into its rightful bucket. I see her sitting arrangement change, but also her facial expression.

"Neh, Sakura…what were you and Li talking about in Brit. Lit.?"

Tomoyo could not have picked a more awkward question to ask. I felt annoyance trickling down my spine, an irritation I did not want to reply to. Why is Syaoran Li plaguing not only my mind, but my conversations? There isn't a special thing I used to like about him.

"Uh, just small talk, nothing important"

"It's important if you're speaking to Li directly, you know that"

What did that even mean? My ears burned with ease, nothing I couldn't control, but everything I wanted brushed aside.

"What I mean is, you two have never ever had a conversation that I would know of, it just seemed a little odd that you would have one out of the blue"

The only other girl I've known all my life also had the special ability of reading my mind, you see.

"It's our senior year, might as well socialize with everyone, don't you think?" If my answer sounded completely insignificant to me, it would sound superficial to her.

"Sure, Sakura, sure" but she left it at that. If there was anything Tomoyo needed to know about Syaoran and me, life itself would unfold every whispered secret our thoughts would have. Because that would be all that should be said.

"Hey! Kinomoto-san, I need your help with the hallway designs"

Luckily, I heard Watanabe's freckled eyes search for me. Shouta Watanabe. The only other boy I've ever wanted to want to love. I'm on the lookout for his reach; we just never seem to meet.

"Ah, Watanabe-san, I don't think I could help you with that…my color coordination is pretty awful, no joke" I respond with the humility I've become apparent for, something I refuse to believe.

Tomoyo's eyes search for mine, I feel them, but I ignore her, knowing what they'll say. So I conform to feeling the burn of her smug smirk, tensing every muscle our day at the spa attempted to relax.

"All lies, Sakura-chan comes second best to designs, she knows that too" I hear Tomoyo support his pleas. I'm not sure whether or not to be upset or relieved.

"Tomoyo can help you! She's in charge of costume designs, if she can get those done, I'm sure she can do anything else" I resist the temptation, though it's all I've ever longed for in my high school existence.

"Um, well, you guys don't have to, it's alright, see ya!" before his lovely body leaves for the doorway, my hand reaches his shoulder.

"You know what, I can help" I reply, allowing the smile to come in contact with my lips.

He turns, the fall sun blessing his honey eyes, highlighting every speck I ever adored.

"Really? It would mean a lot, Terada sensei's been on my ass about it this whole day, I don't even know what to do" he lets out a sigh of relief and contentment.

"Oh, don't sweat it! I had some ideas Tomoyo wouldn't dare let me say earlier at the meeting" I let my perkiness get the best of our moods, hoping it elevates us somewhere better.

"I wonder why…" I hear his sly remark and laugh a smidge.

"Oh yes, your very own student council president has her own rebellious streak"

His laugh joins my own, celebrating absolutely nothing. We continue our walk towards the engineering building of Tomoeda Academy. The wonderful advantage of staying after school welcomes me once more. Quiet halls rid of all the gossip, clear windows free of every tired face in need of a nap, the sun creating a carpet on our tile floor. Nothing is ever quite like this, I think.

"Ah, I forgot the keys to Morita sensei's class, I'll be right back, I thought I saw a custodian nearby, don't leave!" quickly interrupting every feeling I thought of feeling, Shouta exclaims, dashing forth the exit. I sigh and glance at my watch, four forty-seven, only a few more minutes until my body collides against a plush of love (my bed).

The engineering building's door opens, I hear the footsteps I would think of Shouta's own, but as I turn, the very own Syaoran Li walks my way. He's speaking with his friend, Eriol Hiiragizawa.

I remember Eriol in elementary mostly. I remember the way he would pretend to eat glue for money, also of that enormous crush he used to have on me. I remember the chocolates he left at my doorway every Valentine's Day from our kindergarten class to our fifth grade class. I still don't remember any confession though. I'm afraid it's a little overdue.

The closer the two get, the more their conversation dies, and the more my heart begins to revolt. Revolt in embarrassment, revolt in agitation, and revolt in anything I've never thought to feel for Syaoran Li walking my way.

"Li-kun!" I'm not sure when it is I grew balls, but apparently I had some.

His face shows surprise or confusion, but after all the uncomforting glances, he sends me a smile. Half-assed in all its mediocrity, I can tell, but a smile, whatsoever.

Eriol looks around, glancing anywhere but in our greetings. I'm afraid he'll be a little uncomfortable.

"Hey, Kinomoto, what're you doing here?" the difficulty in his question settles me down. Nothing awkward is asked, nothing awkward can be said.

"Oh well, you know, helping with the hallway decorations" as I thought, nothing awkward.

Syaoran nods, Eriol just stands there, his lips fussing with the atmosphere.

"And you?" I ask, even though I know the answer.

"Eh, we didn't really feel like going home, so we stayed for tutorials to help some underclassmen out"

I knew this; I had seen the two help out Miyazaki sensei's first year student's out every Thursday. Well, every Thursday I stayed for student council, anyway.

"Doing your good deed to the school, eh?" I wink, aware of the academic conformist ways of the duo before me.

Syaoran smirks, raises an eyebrow and says, "I'm sure our abysmal student record concerns you, considering you're just making note of it…especially Eriol's"

I can't help but laugh at Eriol's uncomfortable glare to Syaoran. Or at Eriol's impossibly blushing face.

"Hmm, Hiiragizawa-san, how do you manage with him around?" my voice holds sarcasm, the playful type; I'm forgetting its name…your very own literary enthusiast.

He seems to finally engage in our small words of absolutely no significance, so it feels, and nervously grins. "Well, after some odd years of therapy, you see…" he allows me to fill in the blank.

I giggle, the least flirtatious I can, well, not like Sakura Kinomoto is capable of flirting anyway (seriously, seventeen years, perfect teeth, friendly approaches, and no boyfriend, not one single application).

"Hey, sorry for the wait!" another voice joins in our bubble, some bubble our awkward ease has created.

I hear the steps that surely belong to Shouta; definitely, his voice accompanies the sound of his Oxfords.

His smile fades little by little, but still regaining his Shouta Watanabe charm I've so much heard of, the closer he nears our bubble. I discretely glance at Syaoran, no smiles, no twinkle of the eye (there wasn't one to begin with; luckily), nothing can be read on his boyish face. Eriol gives Shouta a lopsided grin, a nod of his head, the normal for Japanese teenage boys, I assume.

"Oh, well, least you had some company" Shouta says, making notice of Syaoran and Eriol.

"We'll be leaving, so, you two can go on doing whatever you're doing" Syaoran states, a voice I've known for most of my life. Not particularly my favorite voice.

"Oh, it's alright, we weren't that busy or anything" Shouta politely, still casually, eases his nerves, I hoped.

"We're just working on the hallway decorations" I say, knowing it would help some more.

"Yeah, well, we'll see ya guys tomorrow, later" Syaoran waves a hand in our direction, Eriol does the same.

"See ya Li-san, Hiiragizawa-san!" I call out after their moving bodies, Syaoran waving, his back towards my face, Eriol turning his head, sending me a constricted smile.

Once the two were out of the engineering building, I heard Shouta sigh.

"I really don't think he likes me, that Li" his words aren't menacing, nor are they bitter. They're really just words.

"So it wasn't just me…" I murmur, certain he heard me, I hoped he would.  
I would really like Shouta to know of my insight and perception. I'm sure he likes smart girls (I do try).

"I think it's been around fifth grade, we used to be alright before then, I mean, not really friends or anything, but it just feels like something snapped around that year"  
Shouta explains all that he can, all that he knows.

And fifth grade, you say? It's around the time I started to like you, you know.

"Ah…well, I guess that's unfortunate" it's the only thing I can give him.

"Guess so" he shrugs, not bothered by anything, my mood hopes.

We're both left thinking; I know he is too, why else would his eyes be at their best? Eyes dimmed by a pensive shell, leaving me cold in the world, warmed only by the comfort that my thoughts are here, too.

"Anyway, let's go get some of those decorations, yes?" he smiles, accompanying the warmth my thoughts provided.

"Mhm" I reply, walking along with his steps.

* * *

He's always bothered me. I know that's all. He's Sakura's male reflection, always stunning, never careless. And if there's ever a speck of discourteous behavior, it's not by accident, it's by charm and grace. They're too good of people, I can't trust my chances.

What the hell were they doing together anyway? They're never together.

"_Hey_, so, you and Kinomoto talk now, or what?" Eriol's questions always need answers, trust me.

I look at him, harnessing my annoyance, knowing it'll find some fault in my indifference towards my platonic, newfound friendship with Sakura.

"_So_?" his question is answered, there's nothing left to bother with.

But I know he's bothered, so he'll want to bother even more.

"Eriol, don't tell me you still like her?" he might, I know I would.

But his face remains composed, his lips the only indicator of anything left for his infatuation with the girl. They're closed, compressed tightly, his eyes looking anywhere else.

"You know how there's people you always kind of, sort of have something for?" he says.

"No, but Eriol, please tell me you're not serious" I groan. This wasn't bad; it just didn't feel good to me.

"Well, sheesh, I'm not going to change my world for her, I just find her cute and you know…wonderful" He mumbled his last adjective, his thoughts arguing with the best of him, I figured.

Sighing, I say, "Doesn't everybody?"

He smirks at me, asking, "Do you?"

I look at him, an incredulous look I worked so hard to build up, but surrender and answer, "And?"

His grin grows; his eyes are narrowed until they are finally closed.

"Oh Syaoran, you've proven me right all these years" his eyes are still, his smile still.

"What?" irritation borders my question, desperately casual, hiding my trembling heart (I do try).

"You know I've liked her, I know I've liked her, so of course I'll know if you like her" he states, calmly letting me know of everything I've been dreading most of my life.

"What the hell are you even talking about?" desperation holds me tightly, seeping through my words, and I know Eriol has figured out my irritation too well.

"Don't worry, it's not like I'm in love with her or anything" he says, leaving out my name, luckily.

"Not anymore?"

"Not anymore"

"…You still like her"

He rolls his eyes and says, "Shut the fuck up, who doesn't"

"Don't do that…it kills brain cells"

He's right. Who the fuck doesn't like Sakura Kinomoto? Her teachers have all liked her, her friends have all loved her, any sane boy discovers love at first sight upon discovering her, and I'm sure her parent's love the hell out of her soul. It's a simple question with a very complex person. A complexity I think I have to reconsider…Sakura, you're not half as bad my intentions set you out to be.

We leave Tomoeda Academy just as we leave the first conversation Eriol and I have shared about Sakura since our elementary days (those mainly concerning Eriol and his massive crush).  
Our neighborhoods aren't too far apart, but I know mine's further, so we bid goodbye until the next day, and I continue my pace for home.

The day feels crisp, manipulated and convinced by my dislike for summer's overbearing weather. The skies are clear, clouds are wispy, and the thin, cool smell intersects with that of cherry blossoms…and coconut. The other scent is warm, and it's getting closer, too close. Soon, I feel a poke on my back.

I turn my head, only to find the face of the prettiest girl I could ever think of.

"Are you stalking me now?" A blush I've never witnessed graces Sakura's dainty face, her eyes glancing at her shoes.

"Oh, shush! I always take this route home, you know that too…" her words begin to fall apart.

I smile, genuinely, hoping she senses it, all the same, I don't know if I really want that.

"Well, we've only lived in the same neighborhood forever"

"At least your mind likes to think its forever"

"Kinomoto, are you flirting with me?" my question isn't serious, but a serious answer I wouldn't mind.

A faint blush returns, but her words sway my question far into the sky. "Li-kun, keep your fantasies where they should be" she smirks, too.

Interacting with a Sakura I've never imagined makes the thought of kissing her bearable. Not like it's never been.

"It's weird, I don't think we've ever met up on our way home" she mentions, and I know why.

"Oh well, normally I go to Eriol's"

"And normally I stay way too late after school"

So we each had our reasons. Did we have a reason keeping us from walking together today? I couldn't find one. I looked at the scene behind her, impossible as it sounds, and realized there weren't many places that didn't compliment her. If anything, I'm sure she'd spark up the location. Why weren't there other girls like Sakura Kinomoto? Did God realize the horrible danger our world would be in for the sake of the beauty in her nature? I'm sure she would be our sun, but reality's sun silly with envy, would act on impulse and kill humanity. That sounds reasonable.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" her voice is gentle, not implying anything at all, but a question.

"You can ask me something else"

"You think we should hang out sometime?"

"…Are you asking me out on a date?" my reply baffled me entirely, just as her question did too. Was Sakura Kinomoto willing to tolerate my presence for absolutely nothing in exchange?

But she stammered her reply, "N-No! I mean, whatever, you know, since our families are working together, I think it'd be pretty cool if we spoke more, seeing as these business-slash-family dinners will probably continue"

I understood her. I think she wanted to get to know me, more than we've known bits and pieces of our lives all these misunderstood years. I'm afraid I did too…

"I think we're up to a good start already" my words caused the loveliest smile on her lips. So I like to think.

"I suppose so…" she trailed off her words, letting her smile speak for her.

We finally reached her house, charming in all its modesty, but glamorous in the peeks of wealth it rightfully owned. She unlocked her gates, allowed herself in, turning to me, she asked,

"I'll talk to you later?"

"I'll talk to you later" I replied, reluctantly elating in the smile of relief she elegantly displayed.

How has this really annoyed me all these years?

* * *

For the first time in my life I faced a dilemma completely out of my element. Shouta, save me, please. Should he? Should anyone? Things feel so right today…

I had arrived home about an hour ago in the company of Syaoran, a first event in my seventeen years. Not just by Syaoran, but by any boy, that brushing aside Yukito, who used to accompany Touya and me every morning to school…but he never really counted, this I knew.

Momentarily, I rested on my bed, leaving my Calculus homework for another hour and my usual trips to the market for dinner to Touya, for once. Today's morning feelings mentioned of an odd day, these were signs I could not ignore, and my experience just an hour ago was sure to kickstart even more confusion. Oh, if Tomoyo were here….I would truly be acquainted all the more with this predicament.

My phone vibrated somewhere in my purse, alarmingly interrupting my thoughts (my feelings as well, thank goodness). I reached into the front flap and held onto my pastel pink cell phone.

"Hello?"

"WHAT ARE YOU HIDING FROM ME?"

The voice shattered my will entirely, if anything my eardrums, as I stood dumbfounded, completely out of sync with anything I could say. Besides, I had no idea whatever Tomoyo was hollering about.

"Um…what?" I managed to ask her.

"Sakura, I may be wrong, but I'm almost positive I saw you and Li walking together…laughing"

"Is there anything wrong with walking and laughing?"

"Oh, no, no, no, don't play dumb with me; this isn't your typical walking and laughing most people do"

"Tomoyo, have you been rolling your eyes lately?" I heard her scoff, then groan, then stomp on something capable of squeaking (I really hope it was that stress ball I gave her for Christmas and not her cat, Suppi).

"SAKURA, I will be there in ten minutes, goodbye" before I could protest (not like I could, in any case), she ended our conversation, and true to her word, my doorbell rang ten minutes later.

I slowly and cautiously opened the door, fearing the fumes her nostrils would produce. But against my will, her hand pushed my door open completely, as she shut it behind her, slamming her purse against my sofa.

"Are we alone?" she asked, surprisingly considering anything but her curiosity.

"…Yes" I meekly, and regrettably, answered, knowing I had to.

"WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING ME THESE THINGS? I AM YOUR BEST FRIEND, I SHOULD KNOW BEFORE YOU SHOULD EVEN KNOW, SO TELL ME, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU HIDING?"  
With eyes wider than her words echoed, lips tighter than her blunt words meant, there was no way of bullshitting my way around Tomoyo Daidouji's inescapable wrath.

Sighing, I sat on the sofa, motioning for her to sit.

"You know…it's really nothing, but, if I must…"

"And you do" she quickly retorted.

I groaned quietly, frustrated at how something as simple as bonding could be so enticing to Tomoyo.

"Well, my dad's the publisher of Li-san's mother's upcoming book, we had a dinner last Thursday – "

"Which was about a week ago?"

"Yes…Tomoyo, exactly a week ago today"

"And you've kept this from me for _this_ long?"

I sighed, an action becoming too familiar around my dear Tomoyo lately. But if she knew there was something I wasn't telling her, then there must be something I am not telling her. She does know best.

"It's just been regular good mornings and random smiles in the hallway, today in Brit. Lit. was our first official conversation in school"

Had I said something I shouldn't have? Tomoyo's eyebrow was raised, her lips perked at their corners, and her eyes possessing a sly glint. Help?

"So…it was your first one in _school_?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Tomoyo, all we did was go to a café, and all on a whim!"

"WHAT? YOU HAD A DATE?"

The absurdity in the entire scenario became unbelievable. The more Tomoyo's voice grew in pitch and volume, the more I felt everything pertaining to Syaoran Li all a lie my jaded love life concocted out of anxiety. And I'm saying love life because Syaoran is a boy, a boy entering Sakura Kinomoto territory. A territory fresh in excessive purity and naivety…at nearly eighteen years of breathing, this is no accomplishment, ladies and gentlemen.

"No! Not even, we both got bored at the family dinner and decided to ditch, _that's all_"

I made double sure to emphasize my last words. And I hoped I believed them too.

She glared intensely at me. I felt the sting of her violet eyes; I know she was satisfied I did.

"Do you like him?"

"What?"

"Do you like Li?"

My breath was hitched, lips biting, eyes wondering, fingers twirling hair. Anyone could tell you I did, but I didn't even know the boy. I never even cared to know the boy. Not once in our school life, not once in my bedroom life, or in my kitchen life, not once in my Penguin Park life, not in any place I could recall being in did I want this boy.

"I don't even know him"

"You're not convincing at all, you know that?"

Tomoyo's lazy grin assured me of nothing I wanted to be assured of. In fact, she frightened my teenage dreams. Syaoran Li frightened my teenage dreams.

"I have no one to convince"

"But yourself?" again her words pierced sensibility somewhere in my heart. And in my eyes too, because for a moment, all I wanted to see were Syaoran's fire eyes.

"You're ridiculous"

"And you're in denial"

"Tomoyo!" I grumbled at the nerves of the girl. Who did she think she was? Well, my best friend.

"I'm sorry, but you know, this is the first boy I've ever seen you get fussy over so quickly"

And she had a point. A very, very accurate and terrifying point.

"You know I like Shouta"

"You know that's going nowhere"

"Moyo, how can you say that?"

She let her body drop against the sofa, her eyes closing, and her eyelashes kissed her softly.

"You could be the one for him, but I don't think he's the one for you" she let out in an unruffled tone.

Her words resonated along my thoughts all throughout the night. Even when I brushed my hair, and brushed my teeth, her words were not brushed away. I could have practiced my tumbling routines about my bed for all the pent up energy my thoughts were producing. My heart cried in the same frustration.

I felt the hours of the night waste away with every increasing thought I had of Syaoran and Shouta. It was a tug-of-war competition, the prize wrapped in a haze of my own fears. Fears collected amongst my high school life, a life missing of the typical experience. Where are the boys lining up outside my door Mother promised me? I convinced myself of my own physical, of my own personality, so where is the result?

I've never even been kissed. And no, Takashi's sloppy surprise in the first grade does not count.

* * *

Morning barged into my eyes before I could count to ten. I glanced at my clock and realized I had forgotten to set the alarm. I also realized I had ten minutes before the tardy bell rang.

I sprinted towards the shower, clumsily dressed in my uniform, _shouted_ my good morning to Touya (father is normally at his office by seven-thirty), and biked like I never had in my entire life.

A first time for all days, I was late to Terada sensei's adoring British Literature class.

Several classmates gasped, only Tomoyo smiled. No ordinary smile, may I add. What a malicious best friend of mine. But on instinct, it felt, I glanced at the other empty desk behind mine. Absent? Tardy? Syaoran Li, where are you now?

I apologized to Terada sensei, and he understood, knowing it was a first in nearly all my life. About the same time my feet guided me towards my desk, I heard heavier footsteps coursing through the hallway just outside our classroom. These footsteps had an owner.

"Sorry, I'm late, won't happen again" the way Syaoran stated his apology paled in my Oscar winner's speech.

"Yeah, yeah, take a seat Li" and the way Terada yawned his apology off made my existence in Tomoeda Academy all the more apparent to me. Have I always acted like a perfect student? I am nauseated.

Seconds after I took my seat, Syaoran walked past me. I didn't know if to share a 'good morning' with his eyes, or a 'oops, looks like we're both late!' smile of sheepish realization. But he quickly took his seat. Just like that.

"Alright guys, can anyone remind me where we left off on _The Importance of being Earnest_?"

On any other day I could tell you, Terada sensei. Today is not any other day. Today is the day I will avenge every hopeless thought I could not reenact in reality. Today is the day I am pouting my lips at Syaoran's negligence, the day my ears are burning my eyes, because I did not see nor hear anything from the fire eyed boy. I did not find the gift my dream surmised through the lack of sleep. Do all girls feel this way? I don't know what it's like.

"Kinomoto please read your lines"

How long has it been? I don't remember hearing any lines previous to mine. Where are we? Who was my character again? God, please destroy every remnant of Syaoran's existence…especially his eyes.

"Um…I'm sorry, I'm not sure where we are"

Because my class is one of gossip and exaggeration, a collective gasp replied my question.

I looked around the room, the first since my morning apology, and couldn't help but feel my cheeks sting. Chiharu's back no longer faced me; she had turned all the way in her seat just to make sure the usual Sakura was sitting behind her. Tomoyo's eyes were brimming with alarm, or curiosity, more than likely both. The boys all looked heartbroken, for whom? I'm sure your girlfriends are all healthy and alive, healthy in love with you all, how else would boys in love categorize health? Syaoran, well, I could not see his face. He may not have cared at all though.

"Erm…Sasaki, please continue where we left off" Terada sensei's voice was not one of disappointment. He could have feigned this, I would have noticed though.

Rika's voice took over the gradually lessening tension I apparently incited, and I once more decided to drone her meek voice out. Whatever.

Before anyone annoyed me out of my remaining wits, wits the regular Sakura Kinomoto once knew, the bell rang closing first period. The morning had run by much too fast, I felt. I hope I wasn't alone with this.

While all my classmates' exited Terada sensei's British Literature class, I lagged in my thoughts of my own unusual behavior. Taking too long on packing my books into my bag, I shouldn't have on any other day; I heard a small cough behind me. There he was.

"You alright, Kinomoto?" his gruff Friday morning voice spoke in gentle tones with me. I wonder what his Sunday morning voice sounds like.

"Oh, um yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well, for one you were late, apparently, and then you weren't paying attention in class"

"I was too paying attention!"

"So what was Wilde trying to convey in this act?"

"…who?"

"Oscar Wilde! Your own English report was on him, Kinomoto"

"Oh! Right, right…so you paid attention to my report last year?"

The look in Syaoran Li's eyes remained priceless. He looked a bit nervous, caught in the words I had revealed to him, more importantly, the discovery he thought I would miss. And if my day were today, he would have been blushing more noticeably than he tried not to now.

"I'm just a fan of Oscar Wilde"

"I never would have guessed" I replied to his dull cover up.

"Well, look, I was just wondering if you were alright, so…"

"Me too, Kinomoto, you weren't too busy with the fall festival set-up last night, were you?"

Another voice wondered over my unusual tardy and lack of attention during class. The voice I would gladly do much for, _this_ much I would do for you Shouta Watanabe. …But maybe not today, though, because today is for you, Syaoran.

I turned to look at Shouta, hoping the concern in his voice was anything but formal.

"Oh, no, well, I'm fine, really…today's just had an off start" I smiled at the two, taking in Shouta's smile, but also Syaoran's look of suspicion. Do you know already?

"Well, if anything's wrong, you can talk to me about it, if you want" Shouta, like the gentleman and fellow vice president of the student council that we was, warmly offered, his eyes never leaving my own.

He left right after, nodding his head formally at Syaoran and me.  
This reminded me of leaving soon after as well, I could not afford another tardy, all in one day. And neither could Syaoran…

"Want to walk with me to Economics?" so maybe that's why I offered him that.

He looked a little unsure, or alarmed. Why do you always make those faces at me?

"Sure" he shortly replied.

We walked the halls of the social studies building, alongside one another like we were old friends. A few of my classmates stared with discrete, perhaps a second glance at most, noting the different companion at my side (normally it was Tomoyo or someone else in my circle of friends). But today was Syaoran Li, and he didn't seem to care for anyone around us.

* * *

The way her eyes glimmered at the sound of Shouta's voice played over and over in my mind. I would like to say that her lovely eyes were the reason of this replay, but I couldn't lie. Because they reacted in such a way to Shouta, because Shouta offered her his hands, because he was the lucky guy Sakura would go to, I think this was why.

But I couldn't wallow in the bitterness of something so insignificant, not when we walked together to economics. Or when we walked together to Biology II, even when I walked her to choir class, and especially not when Tomoyo Daidouji and Rika Sasaki gaped at me doing so. It seemed we walked all day, walking nowhere special, but walking with her.

Just like I was doing now, walking home with her, not hand in hand or anything, but side by side.

"We've been walking together all day, Li" so she noticed this too?

"It looks like it, Kinomoto" my response gave her nothing.

"I think you're starting to like me" her soft voice had no indication of teasing manners.

"I might be" and neither did mine.

Somehow she shook it all away. She giggled and turned, as she began to walk backwards. Her face towards mine, her eyes in mine, her smile captured in my mind…and with my phone.

"Hey! Don't do that!" she complained, lighthearted in all her beauty.

I laughed at her silly attempts, "I had to, you looked pretty ridiculous like that" Ridiculously lovely.

"Oh, gee, thanks Li" she muttered, still attempting to slip the phone out of my hands.

"Anytime" I said, as I placed my phone in my back pocket. If she dared get it from there, this would be the end of everything.

She grumbled at her failed accomplishment, "I don't even know why you need that"

"Because I need a photo ID for your number"

"Ooh, very sly, Li, is this how you got Sasaki to go out with you?"

"Maybe" I grinned at the pettiness she didn't even bother to give the Sasaki matter.

She grinned back and confessed, "Don't tell Hiiragizawa this, but I had a small crush on him our freshman year"

I felt my throat tighten uncomfortably. This was fine; it was the past, right?  
Besides, we're not even dating. We're just getting to talk…and talking is perfectly fine with her.

"What? You're not serious, I mean, you know how obsessed he was with you in elementary?"

She laughed at this, loudly, proudly almost, but I knew with her mild modesty, she couldn't. "I think we were all obsessed with someone in elementary"

Her eyes were glazed with joy, perhaps at all our confessions, or at her own, since mine would never be revealed.  
At least not to the likes of her, not the wonderful likes of her.

"Oh, really, so who were you obsessed with?" I really was curious to know.

"Promise not to tell a soul?"

"I don't know about a soul…but certainly not people without one"

"Good, those are the worst" the way our words pretended to know what we meant, made me think nothing happening today was pretense.

"So then?" I said, urging her to reveal the mystery crush of tender days.

"Shouta Watanabe" the way her voice still quivered in the smoothness of his name made my eyes roll.  
My heart too, or it was tugged harshly, whatever motion it made, I did not like.

"So you do like him" I let her know of my observations.

"Not even…" her voice trailed in a miserable mediocre attempt at nothing really.

"I won't tell a soul"

"What about people without souls?"

"They probably wouldn't care for you, Kinomoto"  
Her lips smiled in honey delicacy, her eyes warm with compassion, I loved her face this way.

After our silence, I boldly asked "Let's walk together tomorrow"

We had just reached the gates of her home.

"Let's exchange numbers first" she replied, tossing me her cell phone, I tossed mine back to her.

I couldn't help but notice my name was behind Shouta's. Even on your phone, neh, Sakura?

"All done" she announced as we exchanged our phones back. "I'll send you something" I told her.

She nodded as she began to unlock her gates, only to turn back, and with dawning realization, she spoke, "Wait, tomorrow's a Saturday…oh my God, Li…did you just ask me out on a – "

She couldn't finish her sentence, not without blushing even more, I bet.

"You can call it whatever you want to call it, Kinomoto" I smiled and waved, walking back home, acting cool, but really, not wanting her to change her mind. Desperation, you are very unbecoming.

On my way home, I knew of everything. I knew Sakura Kinomoto to be prettiest of all girls, I knew her to be the smartest of all seventeen year-olds, and I knew her to be my ticket to heartbreak.  
I should have known better. You couldn't have a soul if Sakura couldn't get to it.

* * *

Well, this chapter may have seemed a little pointless and boring, but I'm hoping to draw out their characters out just a tiny bit more before progressing too fast with some half-assed personalities caught in some crazy plot-twisting disaster. I switched the POV's a bit here, beginning with Sakura and ending with Syaoran, hopefully you all noticed that. Next chapter should be a little more interesting, Syaoran and Sakura get to go on a "date", or almost date ;) Please tell me what you thought of this, thank you!


	3. I'm happy but you don't like me

Thank you very much for those who have reviewed!  
To clarify a few things, Sakura is being a little insensitive, I'll agree, but also, take into consideration that she and Syaoran aren't really _anything_ but embarking on a budding friendship, as of now. Also, Sakura's love experiences are practically nonexistent; therefore, her cluelessness regarding boys is a pretty thick wall to get through.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP

Please enjoy chapter three!

* * *

"Otou-san, have you seen that pink chiffon dress I have?"

Momentarily, the day enticed of a spicy autumn, the leaves rich with memories and blood, tranquility swimming across the skies. Also, momentarily, Sakura Kinomoto was left confounded over her potential outfit for the day's event. Her seventeen years of wise fashion experience, mostly commanded by her best friend, for the first time began to deteriorate at the seams and all for the sake of a boy.

What made him so fantastic? What made any boy so fantastic? They never were to Sakura before she decided to make one boy fantastic, and when was this? Who the hell was it anyway? As far as she was concerned, Shouta Watanabe was not to be involved in her day. Boys were simply brilliant ideas. Brilliant ideas better left idealized in her silly, fickle mind. Where she was loved and loved forever, until that idea became stale and gray, then another idea could announce another forever. Sakura knew love to be ridiculous, but that's all she knew, because Sakura Kinomoto had not experienced love.

"Otou-san!" she hardly shouted for her father's help, but again, today the air was pink.

"Sakura, child, you have too many chiffon dresses, how am I suppose to know where _that_ pink one is?"

Sakura sighed, slightly dropped her head, and mumbled certain uncertainties.  
"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous, I guess"

"And why are we nervous, if I may ask?" another voice set Sakura's nerves further into agitation.

Turning, and hoping her father had suddenly accustomed a seventeen year-olds vocal arrangement, Sakura gulped at the sight of the girl with the filthy laugh, the girl Sakura had forgotten to cancel plans with. But all the same, Tomoyo stood at the entrance of Sakura's bedroom door, Fujitaka at her side sending Sakura apologetic smiles right before dashing away.

"Sakura…why do I smell Chanel on a Saturday afternoon?" and Sakura knew Chanel was strictly reserved for special occasions, Saturday nights, romantic escapades (…on Tomoyo's list), but never Saturday afternoons. Tell us, why is this particular Saturday afternoon in dire need of Chanel?

"Oh, a ha-ha, silly Tomoyo, I must have farted, beautiful isn't?"  
Sakura winked in pretentious mockery, fanning herself in the inexistent aroma.

"No, Saturday mornings-slash-afternoons are our breaks from being perfect, your farts would have smelled"

"Then every day is a vacation for her" Touya's subtle, fleeting comment announced his arrival from his morning duties.  
Also, it caused Sakura to lose a couple of brain cells, in theory.

"Touya, leave!" she pushed her irksome brother out her room, shutting the door behind his broad back.

Grumbling even more incoherencies, Sakura glared at her best friend, or best friend in any other situation, otherwise spy for the matters of love in their current one.  
Tomoyo returned her gaze with smiles of suspicion and unusual curiosity.

"Do I smell a date?" her grin grew at Sakura's inevitable prudent blush.

"It's not a date-date, it's a friend-date…thing" Sakura managed to inform her Cheshire kitten.

"Oh my goodness, Sakura, I never thought this day would come!"

"Hey!"

"Thank the heavens for this miracle!"

"Moyo…"

"Truly such a blessing, and after all these years!"

"I get it…"

"And to think, it's happening on our senior year!"

"Moyo-chan!"

"Ah, yes?" the slate headed girl suddenly became aware of her friends pleas.

Sakura closed her eyes, sighed and rubbed her temple, "Neh…could you help me?"  
Tomoyo glanced at Sakura's current state, a state buried in multitudes of clothing, dazzled in pearl earrings, and suffocating in her own quivering nerves.  
The child would grow soon enough.

Tomoyo smiled once more and replied with earnest confidence, "It would be my honor, Sakura-chan!"

* * *

"Let's walk together tomorrow…Let us walk together tomorrow…Lettuce walk together tomorrow"

The words pounded rhythmically in my heart, or mind, whichever we're supposed to think with.  
I've acknowledged Sakura as my lettuce; I've come to that nonsensical conclusion.

I don't know if that's all I've come to, not in the past week anyway. It was only a dinner, and it was only a café, it was only her casual smiles and polite greetings, only the spark in her emerald eyes, it was only when I noticed her eyes emerald that I have come to all these inconveniences.

What color were Rika's eyes anyway? They are brown, but were they always just brown? Did they not hold that magic they were supposed to? Were they oak brown, or copper brown, auburn brown? I don't think I ever knew the real magic in her eyes. Maybe the magic wasn't made for me, yes, because Rika wasn't made for me.  
Sakura, you brilliant idea, don't prove me wrong.  
Please.

"Oi, Syaoran – "Before Feimei could run her insulting mouth even more, I cut in.

"Carnival or movies?"

"What?" I could care less for the aggravation dancing on my sister's impatient face.

"Eh, if you were a girl, what would you prefer?"

Her eyes elongated in pools of irritation and mild insult, I didn't care so much, still.  
"Because I am a woman, you must mean, if I were a young, _teenage_ girl?"

"Yeah, okay Chucky" she growled shamelessly, knowing the accidental scorching red dye job she had gotten three days ago would haunt her feelings longer than her actual physical.

"_Anyway_, I'd probably go for the movies, Rika looks like she'd swoon over that new Jake Gyllenhaal film"

"Erm…"

"Oh, well, unless you don't want any more of your dying masculinity to be outshined"

"That's not it"

"But it's true?"

"Shut up, I'm not going out with Rika anymore"

The silence and lack of reaction that preceded my relationship status couldn't have affected me even if I wanted to be miserable. Rika Sasaki, you are a failure. My heart's firmly intact; there are no pieces to pick up, much less figure out.

"Uh…you okay, right?"

Sensitivity never was Feimei's strong suit; actually, I don't really think it's any Li's strong suit.

"I'm good"  
You see, the good whole month I shared my feelings with another human being, another ordinary human being, was a pleasant experience. In fact, it was too pleasant I won't even remember her lips, or her girlish antics, because they weren't for me, not one of it.

"Well, if it helps, I didn't really like her, neither did Mom, or Fanren, Wei even complained once, you know – "

"Feimei, I am _fine_"  
She examined my eyes closely, tracing the flecks and lines of anything outlining my soul. Sister, you'll find as much evidence concerning Rika as your mind will make up, because that's all it is, pretense. So, why don't you ask me about the new lucky lady? Ask me about Sakura, I'll say, "Shut the fuck up, she's just a friend" urge you to leave, and keep on with my day. And my day will be a great day, whether it's spent at the carnival or the movies.

"Ooh, so _you _broke up with _her_, poor girl, she must be miserable"

"What? No, God, Feimei quit being so nosy"

"Then were you not all that she dreamed you would be? Hm, fell a little short, if you catch my drift?"  
The way her eyes presumed inexistent activities in my past relationship made my stomach shift in disgust. Disgust because she is my sister, assuming these thoughts. Besides, I've never even gone past second base.

"Get the fuck out "I muttered, close to sighing.

"Oh my poor little brother, don't worry, contrary to popular belief, sex does not make a man"

"Leave"

"Though personally, I do believe it defines an honest man"

"Don't you mean it honestly defines a man?"

"No, I mean what I said"

"I don't believe every man you've slept with an honest man"

"I never said every man had to be defined"

"Feimei, you're disgusting, go away"

She laughed blatantly, pursuing in the air of her own grimy happiness, leaving a trail of slime in her brazen exit.

Alright, heads carnival, tails movies.

* * *

A muddle of scents coursed all around me, smiles and laughs evaporated in the atmosphere, crowds bumped one another, but in everything that swirled around me, I kept my gaze keen on only two things. Honey and emerald, honey and emerald, emerald and honey, emerald and honey…are you here?

I found myself at Tomoeda's fall carnival.  
I had originally found myself contemplating on the actual coin-toss choice: the movies.  
Let's analyze, movies are casually dark and cold, when girls are dark and cold, they want warmth and light. You know what can provide warmth and light?  
Another body and another heart.

Thank you loving prediction, but my nerves are nowhere near settled with Sakura's composed allure.

Besides, we're friends embarking on a newfound friendship…she'll think I'm a creep otherwise.

"Li-kun!"

I heard the honey and emerald drip in a smooth pattern within two vowels.  
I turned, and there walking in my direction (no one else's), arrived Sakura. The dry autumn breeze bothered not with her navy blue dress, nor her black floral patterned tights, if anything the day stood the other way around. Sakura tampered gracefully with autumn, my autumn.

"Sorry if I'm a little late, it's just –"

"I see we're making this tardy mishap a habit now" the tension of my teasing was light, light as her hair and mischievous lips pursuing a petty argument.

"Once, twice, I'm afraid it doesn't meet any of the habitual requirements, Li"

"I'm afraid you don't meet any of the habitual requirements, Kinomoto"  
I knew there might've been hurt in our day; I knew I might have said too much, but I couldn't help but tease her, call it an instant Kinomoto habit, it was hard to shrug off.

"Hey! And what is that supposed to mean?"  
The grumbling her face displayed showed no real sentiment, so why stop?

But I smile at her, aware of the fact that we stood amongst people, people with opinions.  
We might as well have been a couple to them.

"It means whatever you want your pretty little head to mean"

I wasn't even sure if I was flirting with her. I wasn't even sure if she was flirting with me. But whatever this was, well, I just couldn't pinpoint in any of the heated arguments I had with Rika, nor Naoko, and most certainly not with Misaki. Maybe it was a Sakura thing, reserved for her charm only. Accompanied by me, or maybe someone, perhaps Shouta…I'm not sure I care for him though.

She tried hard not to blush; I felt the struggle in her lips, making its way to her eyes, looking up and down. Have I ever really known you?

"Anyway, are there more people coming along or…?" I didn't know if to be insulted or annoyed, but I chose to be calm, why bother?

"Or it's just you and me? Yes"

"…but it's not like we're on a date-date, right?"

"Oh, yeah, totally"

I left her standing, irritation irking across my face. Of course I didn't want her to see it, if she had, would she even had noticed? There are things that have always bothered me about Sakura; her dense mentality was never one. I felt her shriveling in human errors. Would I like you better this way?

"Neh, Li-kun, are you mad?" and damn it, she picked it up. Maybe it's not her oblivious character, but her perceptive mind that gets to me. I don't know.

She followed me throughout the chaos of lights, poking me gently and then firmly, calling me incessantly, playfully whispering apologies. Is there a law that prohibits you from scolding beauty?  
Because I sure as hell would like to break it.

"Do you like rollercoaster rides?" I asked.

"Absolutely not"

"Then we're getting on one"

"What? Li! Do you know what they do to me?" The expression on her porcelain face provoked my own, her genuine fear and alert surged through my muscles in amusement and grace.  
Do _you_ know what you do to me?

"It can't be worse than what you're doing to your face right now"  
I had a point, the girl's hands nearly scrunched up her cheeks in disconcerted fear.

"You owe me anyway" I continued.

"…Uh, wait, for what?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Kinomoto"

"Stupid questions bode well with stupid people, Li"

"…Did you just offend yourself?"

The blush crept back upon her face, her cheeks pinched in sincere embarrassment.

"I meant you, baka!" she girlishly grumbled, looking at her feet, pouting as we continued to walk.  
And the walking resumed, but also shortly ended as we arrived at the ticket booth. Once more, I insisted and she humbly agreed. I grabbed our tickets and my change.

"Close your eyes for a minute"  
I looked to see a reaction on her face, surely, her nose was scrunched tightly, her eyes smoldering in curiosity, while her lips settled in confusion.

"Why a minute?"

"Because a minute is all you'll ever need"

"With you? Hah! No wonder Sasaki dumped you"

If I wasn't mistaken, I felt the heat on my own face, crawling deviously and comfortably decorating my countenance in all its awkwardness. Sakura, have you met my sister?

"Pervert" I muttered, slapping her hand lightly, as she finally complied and closed her eyes.

"Let's not forgive _your_ lewd nature now" she smirked, following my hand, never holding it though.

I smiled, Sakura, could you ever forgive mine when our own temperaments adore one another today?  
Maybe tomorrow too, who knows how you are on Sunday mornings.

"Keep talking and I'll change my mind" I warned her, knowing either way, I would have my way.

"That doesn't even make sense; I don't know what's been made up in there"

"Kinomoto…"

"If _anything_ at all" she giggled at her own humor, using her hand to cover up her smile.  
Don't do that.

We kept our pace at a safe distance, sometimes she would tug on my jacket. The temporary blinding made it necessary; otherwise, what do you have to go by, Sakura? Scents and sounds?  
I felt a rush of happiness, a satisfaction in knowing someone depended on me; _she_ depended on me.

"And we are here, open"

I turned to meet her gaze, and notice the blank canvas slashed across her emerald eyes.

Before us stood a line, and beyond that stood the main attraction of Tomoeda's fall carnival. A yellow rollercoaster, mighty in loops and glorious dips, turns scrunching in all the right places.

"I'm not getting on"

"I paid"

"…" she knew of it. She knew her tickets were from my money, and knowing her, she would not let me waste money in vain, Sakura would not allow an opportunity be wasted in vain. Admittedly, it's one of those qualities humanity effortlessly adores, you know, it's like Simba's loyalty, that admiration Disney characters depict luminously decade after decade.

We stood side by side in line, her eyes were shaken in fear, shaken by the line we were in, shaken by the fact that no matter what, she would live to see the day she conquered this monster. Even if it was just a silly rollercoaster.

"Li?"

"Yes?"

"I hate you"

"You're crazy"

She looked at me, sentiments baffled. Her eyes reflected the lights of every ride, still, the green never died. There wasn't a single sparkle that could have outshined her eyes this evening.

Upon her eyes, I noticed the sun setting down. How long had we waited? Not just in line, but to be next to each other, in any line for that matter. I remember getting in the lunch line, and she never stood by me. Alphabetically she sat in front of me, but whenever we'd line up for school pictures; Mikuru Kuroki cemented a wall between us. So, how long have we waited exactly? Just to be here, side by side, enjoying the breeze, letting it caress your hair?

"Alright, next up, come on down!" the carnie shouted at the line, despite the distance being a mere four feet away. Sakura shook her wrists, scratched her exposed arm, and inhaled deeply.

"You better make this worth it, Li" her hand grabbed mine, and without hesitation, my heart gasped at the simple touch. A simple thing, these simple things that lift your world and shake it up…and, still, it's all so ordinarily a part of life.

The seats were secured, and I noticed Sakura's grip on my own hand tighten.

"Don't be such a wuss, Kinomoto; you're not going to die"

"Well, excuse me, Li, ever heard of Final Destination?"

"Ah, I think I just figured out why you're so afraid"

"…enlighten me"

"You've lead a double life of sin and doubt, therefore, any chances of increasing your death risk, you'll shake in your pretty little shoes, knowing there's no way in hell you'd survive in your afterlife"

"By God, Li…"

"I'm a genius, yes, I've thought that too"

"I think I've fallen"

"Then there's no need to be afraid" I smirked at our innocent words, playing with every feeling I never thought to feel towards Sakura…at least not openly.

She smiled, her dimples forming serenity, the only bit left right before the ride zoomed into adrenaline.

* * *

"Ugh, Li! How could you have missed? It was _right_ there!"

"Well, sorry, but someone's block head was in the way"

"Oh right, well, maybe if you weren't so blind, we could've gotten the bigger one"

"You mean _I_ could have gotten the bigger one"

"Yes, but I'm the girl, you would have given it to me"

"Tsk, says who?"

"The Official Laws of Dating book"

"Oh, so _now_ it's a date?"

Sakura coyly smiled, looking all around her but at the prize carried in my hands. He said, 'Get three in a row and win the gal a small teddy bear! Smash five in a row and dazzle her with the panda…thing! But, demolish the entire tower, and surprise her with the flying wizard like koala…thing!' Damn carnies.

The hours had flown faster than my heart did in nearly every ride Sakura threatened to cry on. After countless of steps made and numerous rides forgotten, we stood by a tree, arguing over the mediocre prize my cheap hands had accomplished. The panda squished by my squared hands had small wings, a creamy pastel colored addition, God knows why. So I hadn't won the koala thing, but at least I hadn't gotten the teddy bear.

Needless to say, awkward bits remained in our day, we spoke and laughed, she laughed, I spoke, I laughed, she embarrassed herself. I'm forgetting perfection ever did exist.

"Li, I'm sleepy" she yawned into her hand, leaning against the bulky tree, her eyes forgetting our debate.

"Take a nap"

"Where?" In my arms, silly.

"Don't you know how to sleep standing up?"

"Never thought it necessary"

"And to think you're awake during Terada's lectures…"

She rolled her eyes, at least beneath her eyelids, a smile pushing its way upon her face.  
"You wouldn't even know"

"I know everything, Kinomoto" I knew everything I wanted to know, if you asked me right now.

"So, what do you know right now?" Or maybe she was perfect…

"I know I want to be right over there" my index finger pointed towards the single ride left untouched by Sakura's grace. The Ferris wheel illuminated the river flowing right beneath the boardwalk the carnival situated itself upon. Lively patterns adorned the one ride worthy of serious attention. Ever thought yourself as Tomoeda's Ferris wheel? Bright and glowing…and stuck in rut. What would we do without you?

"You're right" Sakura softly spoke, grabbing a hold of my arm, leading the way. She shivered a bit, the gentle breeze of the early day had fixed itself into a prickly annoyance, itching with tender ice and light shudders. Her black coat fit her so well, though.

"I normally am" she clicked her tongue at my arrogance, the brittle bones left of it.

As we headed towards the lovely attraction, the swirls of people increased, it was a starry night, and everything fell into place, because everything is alright, Sakura.

I felt the slow paced timing of our footsteps, and the mindless people yelling across the area, shouting to their friends, shouting to their crushes, playing with their minds, I never imagined myself like this.

"Ah, damn, there's a pretty long ish line…"

"Ish?" However magnificent her poetry and essays were in British Literature, she failed to impress with her vocabulary.

"Yes, ish"

"You're ish"

"Li, let's not start this argument again"

"Oh which one of them all?"

"_This _one"

"Just this one?"

She beamed her heavy eyes at me, dripping with pleasant irritation. "Let's not start at all"

"Can we start something else?" I swear, where I had the nerves to even remotely flirt with Sakura…I blame my heart entirely, that messy, irresponsible monster.

"Looks like we can start the ride" she mumbled beneath her evident blush.  
How many times had it been today?

Maybe the line hadn't been all that long, maybe all the ordinary people sensed Sakura's magic, but the next thing I knew, Sakura urged our feet onto the small pink contraption. Her smile illuminated everything she so much glanced at. I felt the dirt appear whenever mine came in touch with hers.

"Kinomoto, Li?" the voice calling both our names, also reeled reality within me.

It was a school mate voice, someone we both knew, someone we both had interestingly different thoughts over. Even on my own weekend, you're here to plague me with your much better soul.

"Ah, Watanabe-kun!" Sakura gaped at the boy being seated in the capsule right behind our own.  
I felt the charismatic appeal the Ferris wheel once owned diminish just a bit.

I noticed a small girl seated parallel of him, she had that Watanabe smile, and that dark Watanabe hair, could we not forget that firmly shaped Watanabe nose?

"So, you guys here together or what?" Whenever another boy adds an "or what" to their sentences concerning Sakura Kinomoto, I couldn't help but suspect jealousy. Thanks, Eriol.

"Um, yeah, you could say that" Sakura grinned at me, lucky me.

"Just a friend date thing, you know" I blatantly informed, carelessly forgetting 'date' a rather strong word in ordinary teen vocabulary.

"A date then…interesting" he cocked an eyebrow, we really weren't sure what he implied.

"And the little lady with you?" Sakura, remembering her manners, sent a lovely smile to, presumably, Shouta's relative.

"Oh, right, Nathalie, my little sister" the younger Watanabe smiled politely at Sakura. I couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable connection between all of the three. Needless to say, I felt left out.

"Nathalie? What a pretty name, don't you think?" Sakura looked at me, possibly asking my confirmation.  
I nodded, sending the young girl a smile soaked in the manners my mother tried to embed into my psyche.

"Ah, thank you!" she blushed, an eight year old blush it seemed. She was only a child.

Shouta smiled as well, but I sensed his tense awkwardness. Why? Why did I feel victorious?

The ride finally began, Sakura waved at Shouta and Nathalie, up until we were out of their sight.  
She sighed, sinking into her seat. Her eyes were closed, debating on a matter unbeknownst to me.

"…I'm only a little glad he's not with a real girl"

I felt my heart sink, not in that Titanic sort of way, but really, Sakura, _really_?

"She looked pretty real to me" I managed to stumble out; I had rather not say a thing though.

"You know what I mean" I'd rather not though.

She looked at me, and suddenly, the facts of our day hit her.

"Oh…"

"And to think we made an agreement here" I lightly stuck my tongue out at her, hoping to conceal my minor disappointment.  
So she hadn't forgotten that prince charming of hers.

"We never did!" she exclaimed, sinking in her own guilt, I hoped.

"I suppose so…" I sighed, not wanting to meddle with Sakura anymore.  
I felt my appetite for tonight fade. Sakura, why are you doing this?

"Li, I know you don't really like me"

"Oh really?" I mumbled.

"Yes! I know all the nasty thoughts you've said about me"

I couldn't help but blush. Let's clarify what definition of nasty it is you're using first, Sakura…

"I know you think I'm stuck-up, a prudish goody two shoes, and…and annoying!"

Oh, _that_ nasty. Thank goodness.

"Oh like you thought anything else of me" if we were coming clean, I would have to give my part too.

She slipped away in the silence of my statement, what, rumors spread throughout school pretty damn fast.  
I would be surprised if _everyone_ loved Sakura without paying the price of jealousy, irritation or resentment. It was only a matter of time we acknowledged one another, rightfully.

"Um…" she was stuck.

"How about these words for thought, lazy, careless, an academic waste of time and space?"

"I never said that!"

"Come on, first impressions aren't only imprinted on one person"

"First impression don't normally last twelve years, Li"

"That goes for the both of us"

She bit her bottom lip, realizing her error, like I had caught mine. So, you're stubborn and naïve and completely inconsiderate. Why is this not repulsing me? Maybe, because I knew if I touched you at this very moment, I could feel reality in you. I could sense the warmth the softness of your skin would bless mine with, and maybe you would even blush at the insignificant though sudden contact. Maybe this made you pleasant, but so much more than that.

"I'm sor – "

"Apology accepted" I knew she would apologize, I knew because her eyes glimmered in waves of malleable regret, eventually conforming to my feelings.

She raised an eyebrow, smirked at my words and rolled her eyes.

"God knows how many brain cells you've killed today"

"Yes! I knew I wasn't wrong!" her abrupt exclamation took me by surprise.

"And this makes you glad..?" Sakura, you weird girl.

"_No_, don't be dumb, I just had heard the exact same theory, duh" she spoke in credulous tones.

"Then we are meant to be riding this Ferris wheel, at this exact time"

"Otherwise we wouldn't have come to this conclusion?"

"Exactly" we both grinned, as the grinners that we were, and stared off into the nightly sky. Stars splattering nonsense, nonsense only Sakura could enhance. I looked at her, as she sat in the seat in front of mine. Eyes locked in with hers, I made sure she knew of this.

"And just so you know, this _is_ a date-date"

She blushed, deeply and in rosy colors for the first time. Where was the use in hiding it now?  
"Ah…okay" she spoke in hushed volumes, not ashamed, not embarrassed, it seemed.

The rest of the ride consisted of a newly shy Sakura glancing at her feet, glancing out into the heavenly sea, looking back, perhaps for the secure wall that was her Shouta Watanabe. But she was lost in the small capsule like contraption we journeyed on together, decidedly. I didn't care for Shouta; I didn't care for her thoughts on Shouta. I cared for the clumsy reaction my words had fused with Sakura's thoughts, and for once, the realization that there was more to perfection than perfection ever needed. Maybe you're a little less incomplete, Sakura, or maybe you're becoming a little more whole.  
But I'm no one to say so.

The cycle came to a halt, as we felt the ground beneath our existences, beneath our thoughts. She gently climbed out, set her feet firmly on the ground and waited for me.

Shouta and Nathalie exited right after us, walking our way. Suddenly, I might have cared for Sakura and her thoughts on him. It was a possibility.

"Hey, you guys heading home already?" Shouta simply asked, but nothing was ever that simple anymore.

"Mm, I'm not sure, what's next in our agenda, Li?" Sakura looked at me, knowing everything was my idea, for today.

"Um, well, I guess home; it's getting kind of late"

"Whaa – but it's only eight thirty, Onii-chan, you lied" Nathalie's tender voice entered our conversation.

"Oh, so you're a liar now, mm?" Sakura's teasing ways were shared not only with me, I assumed.

Shouta chuckled lightly, "I suppose only on the weekends"

"He said kids his age could stay out late" Nathalie playfully pouted at her older brother's white lies.

"Oh, well, he meant only cool kids his age, we're not exactly there yet" I finally interjected, my words wanting a subtle distinction between us and Shouta.

"Yes! That's exactly why we're leaving so early, you see" I saw the wink Sakura send Shouta, as if rescuing him from a terrible tempest a grumpy eight year old could ensue at any moment.

"I saw that" but Nathalie intervened.

"A ha-ha, well, that's because you're a smart child" Sakura nervously laughed.

Nathalie smiled at her charming laughter. "Onii-chan, bring her next time we go out"  
she winked at Sakura, and announced her short lived journey for cotton candy, dismissing herself.

Shouta sighed, once Nathalie was out of hearing range,  
"I'm sorry about that, she doesn't know half of the things she talks about sometimes"

"She seems just fine" I rebutted, only because I found no other joy than disagreeing with the guy.

"Hah, well, you could say that" Shouta grumbled, then looked directly at Sakura. I noticed she glanced around before looking back. Let's leave, please.

"Well, I guess I should let you guys go" Yes, YOU SHOULD.

"Alright, well, tell Nathalie we said bye, see ya Monday!" Sakura called out, masking everything so well.

"Yeah…see ya" it may have been just me, but Shouta looked awfully shaken up for the ball of perfection he always seems to be. Fuck yes.

His retreating back left Sakura and me in a state of reflection. Or so it seemed, this one time though, the silence lacing our night bothered me.

"If you want, I could try helping you out with him" was I supposed to say this?

Finally coming back, Sakura's eyes were startled, she jumped a bit, shook her head and said,  
"Nah…I'm fine like this"

For a strange reason, for some fucked up, out of body type of experience reason, I think I fell in love.  
Or fell somewhere near it, there…I'm not sure what love is.

* * *

We walked towards our neighborhood, not hand in hand, but side by side.  
The stillness in the air frightened me, I felt like a girl, thinking she could have a better chance at hearing the drumming of my heart. Why do my nights always end this way? After a cyclical battle of denial, mediocre sarcasm, I always end up in the same exact place. Bantering with Sakura Kinomoto comes with a price, a very heavy price.  
I had no way around it, absolutely no escape, nothing safe to keep me from falling at the rate I was.

"And I am now home" Sakura announced, as she stood on the steps of her gate.  
I wondered beyond her gate, what was she like? Did she stay in her pajamas until she absolutely _had_ to change out of them?  
Did she spend hours on Facebook pretending to be busy with homework, so she made herself viewed as 'offline'?

"Looks like it" I said, too comfortable in my conflicting thoughts to muster any wit.

Her eyes rested on my face, nowhere else. I wish she weren't so confused though.

"Li…I had fun today, really, so thank you" Sakura's pink lips commenced a smile and even more thudding heartbeats. Oh, it's just fine, not like I haven't had enough of that all day long.

"Well, this was just one day"

"…Yeah" maybe she was just as lost as I was.

"Oh and um, here" I plopped the plush concoction of a panda onto her arms.

"Because it was a date-date?" she asked.

"Because it was a date-date" or because it's you

We stood at her steps, playing with the air, twirling fingers in indecision, noting the difference of the years, the distinctive aroma of our twelve years. I wasn't so sure she felt the same. I knew I felt something though. Something too drastic, carving a seat upon my heart, claiming loyalty and attention. A sense of ownership…and yet, my heart was mine, in my body, in my mind, only different.

"Well, I'll talk to you later" not a question but a statement, Sakura smiled once more as she tugged my arm, and opened her gates, leaving me amidst the nightly thoughts of youth.

So it's another night where I'll be in bed, either regretting or replaying my day, I'll have you know not one ounce of lament flowed in my veins. If any, Shouta is to blame.

I'll admit a harboring crush, I'll admit a heart free of gravity, if only you would say the same, Sakura.

* * *

So, nearly everything was told from Syaoran's POV, I hope this was alright. For some reason, I find slipping into his shoes easier than I would with Sakura. Well, he's said it, he's confessed, Syaoran definitely likes Sakura, and within a span of three chapters! Mind you, it's been a span of a week of toleration and getting to know one another, plus the twelve years of bitter admiration (from Syaoran's part anyway). So, we need to wait for Sakura now, wait to see if she ever forgets Shouta, and admits to fully liking Syaoran. Again, may have been a little slow paced, but it's the way I'm comfortable writing. Please give me your feedback, and I promise my chapters will get much more eventful, trust me, I have ideas, thank you :3


	4. Don't run

Thank you to all those who are still keeping up with me! I know it's a lot to ask for XD  
I'm grateful, once more, to all of the reviews the last chapter received, thank you.  
I suppose to answer an unofficial question, Sakura isn't entirely perfect, and neither is Syaoran, of course, I normally don't like pointing out too many things in my writing, but essentially, Sakura is stubborn, naïve, inconsiderate (because sometimes she is very naïve), and completely indecisive when faced with something out of her element. Syaoran is just seemingly too average, in reality, though, he's a nice guy. He's a hopeless romantic in complete denial, and tries very hard to be as cynical as possible. I'm trying to convey this, hopefully further chapters help.

Please enjoy chapter four :)

Oh, and btw, whenever you see one of these ~, it means they're singing, you'll see.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP

* * *

"Ugh, I can't stand that girl!"

Frustrated hands scrubbed at the invisible rage polluted in the soap.

Rika Sasaki washed her hands in the girls' school restroom, venting furiously over a matter that should have ended over a week ago. Over a week ago, when she broke up with Syaoran, over a week ago, the same day she saw him at the café _she_ worked in with _another_ girl. Any other girl would have been fine, but Sakura? She had always known Sakura to be wonderful; in fact, they had even been friends at one point, so maybe that's why it hurt so much to see them together. At another time in her life, she had thought Syaoran wonderful too. Why were they even together? Was it a coincidence she thought the pair wonderful individually, God just had to agree?

Fate never seemed to go according to Rika Sasaki.

"I would have said you're overreacting, but they've been spotted together a lot lately"

A girl with shoulder length dark hair said, leaning against a stall. She held no sympathy in her voice; she held nothing, in fact. She knew just as much as Rika did.

"I know it's so weird! I heard Shouta say he bumped into them at the carnival Saturday"

Chiharu, the braid haired girl added on, certainly not elevating Rika's mood.

But Chiharu spoke for the art of gossip, that's mostly what she spoke for in Tomoeda Academy. Underneath every empty word uttered from her cranberry lips, hid a vanishing soul slowly withering from the irrelevance prevalent in ordinary teenage years, but Chiharu knew nothing of this. Fueling Rika's potentially grave vengeful demeanor, the two girls enjoyed the company of revenge.

"Eh…why would they even be together all of a sudden anyway?" Rika pointed out the one flaw extorting her otherwise perfect tale of adultery (or that of supposed previous adultery).

"Well…I don't know, did you ever notice anything about him while you were going out?" introduced as the black haired girl, Kumiko, inched her question at Rika slowly. She knew of the shy girl's temper.

"Um, I did have a few suspicions, which may I remind you, were confirmed by none other than Takashi"

"Wow, and you believed him?" Chiharu felt her face flush at the mention of her deceitfully charming ex boyfriend. Of course, any malice or incredibility in her voice was only remains of a bitter break up.

"Haru-chi, just because he didn't tell you the truth the entire time doesn't mean he lied to me that one time" Rika grumbled beneath her breath, having had enough of Chiharu's "Takashi Yamazaki Rants".

"_Anyway_, what did he tell you?" Kumiko, aiming to avoid another girlish confrontation, interjected.

Rika's eyes held a resentment the girls had been aware of over a week ago, when every wall Rika had managed to cement around Syaoran and she began tumbling down. She looked around the restroom, looking beneath the stalls, making sure not one shoe was in sight, she continued.

"It's just…there were these instances when I'd catch Syaoran staring at _her_, but you know, it was like this puppy dog stare, it wasn't just a stare, you get me?"

When the two girls nodded sympathetically at her, Rika pursed her lips, feeling a sense of sentiments surging through her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"And whenever we'd go somewhere he wanted to go during lunch, she just _had_ to be nearby that place, I know, I sound paranoid and whatever, but it didn't really bug me until I was talking to Takashi a few days before we broke up"

"And?" Chiharu impatiently asked, skeptical about whatever anyone by the name of Takashi had to say.

"We were just talking during economics, and somehow Sakura's name popped up, he joked around on how I should keep Syaoran on a leash around her, but with me, having all these theories beforehand, well…I just had to ask more" Rika had to ask more. She knew Takashi and Syaoran were close friends, and she also considered Takashi a close friend of hers, at least until Chiharu begged her not to speak to him or of him for that matter.

"Well, what'd he say?"

Sighing, she spoke, "Supposedly, Syaoran's kind of had this crush on Sakura since forever ago or something"

There was a sudden thump in the last stall. A thump alarming Rika's unsettled heart, following the beats of her own heart, for that one second. The girls looked at each other, afraid their privacy had been misleading, but dared not to check on the stall. If the supposed perpetrator had indeed assumed a role in their discussion, they would not allow their faces to reveal their voices. So they left, rushing into the remainder of their lunch break.

Legs dropping from their squatting position, feeling the floor after several minutes of hiding, the stall next to the last one opened, revealing a much frazzled young girl. Her violet eyes wide with discovery, her lips glued tight, she harshly knocked on the stall next to hers.

"…Sakura?"

Not a sound was made from the stall, not a peep could surrender the voice of the lovely cherry blossom. But Tomoyo did not blame her.

"You heard that?"

Again, no reply, but the stall was certainly opened.

Sakura sat on the toilet seat, dumbfounded, wishing she hadn't heard a thing. Wishing her best friend hadn't texted her to "hide" upon hearing the severity of, obviously, Rika's normally temperate voice, wishing she hadn't eavesdropped on a, theoretically, private conversation. But aside from feeling dirty and cheap, she felt nervous. More so than when Syaoran and her hung out together, because at that time, she felt comfortable, comfortable talking to the seemingly charming and clever boy. Knowing a heart was at the bottom of all that wit and charisma frightened Sakura. A heart other people may have confused for an affection towards herself. Because Sakura was sure as hell Syaoran did not like her. He couldn't, she knew he didn't even like her, up until recently, and even _that_ was on a friendly level.  
But really, what was so terrible about it all?

"Oi…I thought you went on a date with _Shouta_ on Saturday?"

"Huh?" snapping back into reality, a reality spreading into her daydream world, Sakura finally made eye contact with the violet eyed girl. She didn't look happy, but she didn't look entirely upset.

"I never said I was…"

"But you didn't tell me with who either"

"Well, you didn't ask"

"Because I assumed…"

"Then there you go"

"Sakura, don't blame this on me"

"Oh, Tomoyo, what does it matter, neither of us gave it any importance to who I was going with!"

At Sakura's suddenly inclined voice, Tomoyo sighed, a sigh admitting her own mistake.  
"I know, well, whatever; you know that's not what's important now"

Of course Sakura knew this, she knew this very well. But she also hoped she had been daydreaming...daydreaming? Of such a confession? With Syaoran at the center of the whole equation? No, no, that hadn't been the case either.

"It's not true" Sakura firmly denied, pretending to know the kaleidoscopic heart Syaoran unexpectedly possessed…in theory. And according to her, not one single crease held evidence of herself.

"And you know this because?" Tomoyo leaned against the faucet, smirking.

"I just do, and besides, look at who we heard it from"

"Hm, well I never thought to peg Rika as the lying type"

"I meant Takashi"

Sakura had a point. Takashi Yamazaki's record wasn't the cleanest, especially not for liars. But he was also one of Syaoran's close friends since elementary. Why would any dear friend lie on that level to two close friends? It didn't make any sense to Tomoyo's principles.

"Still, I don't think he would lie about that"

"Tomoyo, trust me, I would have noticed"

Tomoyo tried her best not to bore her violet eyes into Sakura's common sense, because it was common sense that Sakura Kinomoto stood amongst some of the most dense girls in Japan, and like normality, she stood at number one.

"Okay, so maybe it could have slipped by me, but it didn't"

"_Sure_, Sakura…whatever you say" Tomoyo patted the honey haired girl and trailed out into the hall way, Sakura following quickly. Suddenly, her thoughts did not bode well with the thought itself of being alone.

The girls walked the halls of the Engineering building, Tomoyo humming with inspired delight, Sakura pouting with crushed realization. But what was there to realize? She knew of everything. She knew Shouta to be her protected harboring crush, despite not having spoken to him in several days (excluding businesses concerning the fall festival during student council meetings), but more importantly, she knew of Syaoran as her _friend_, and nothing else.

So why didn't everything feel as friendly as it should have when she walked into biology?

He smiled at her, even tossed her a 'hey!' an exclamation mark added to the very end of that greeting. It wasn't just any other _hey_; it was more like, "Oh, hey, let's start a conversation!" type of hey. Then why did she just nod her head and send him a lazy smile? He did not deserve anything less than whatever she had been giving him. He put up with her, despite not even having to know her, he took her out to the carnival, despite them never having to set foot on any other ground together but school, so why all of a sudden? Why did she give him just that?

Sakura sat on her seat, not without having missed the way Syaoran arched his eyebrows at her indifferent response. Maybe if she ignored him long enough that insignificantly annoying frustration etching at the back of her mind would cease to exist.  
Maybe if she ignored him long enough he would cease to exist.

"Psst, Kinomoto!" He whispered in a manner only she could hear.

Their wizard-like biology II teacher had begun scribbling his makeshift foreign language on the board; the only words understandable were the date and the class period. Not like any of it mattered, everyone knew he would forget and ask during his lectures.

Sakura heard her name, and she knew, by formalities, that she had to reply. She had to give him anything to let him know she was aware of his presence, as irritatingly impossible it became to ignore him. How had Syaoran become such a bother? Because she heard a silly rumor in the girls restroom? Or because she heard a silly rumor she desperately tried to convince herself did _not_ in the absolute give her the least bit of happiness? Why did it?

"Hmm…" she hummed, letting him know she was available.

"What's wrong?" there he went again, asking things that shouldn't even bother him.  
But he never did that, at least not to the point she had to make any irksome notice of it. In fact, she never had to make notice of him before, why now?

"I'm fine, now pay attention" she mumbled, keeping her lips as tight as her heart.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow. He thought to hear drips of rudeness in her tones, but he wasn't sure if he ever knew what Sakura acting rude would sound like. Not one ounce of him could relate to the thought.

For the remainder of the period, Sakura looked straight ahead, just like before. Before intertwining with Syaoran, before realizing there was a whole lot more to boys, before knowing that everything that was beginning to bother her dealt with a messy headed boy. There was definitely more mystery than she would have preferred.

* * *

"Remember to pick up the signing-in sheets, they're all over the school, kay!" I yelled, nearly hopelessly, at the retreating backs of the rest of the student council.

Amidst all the sudden internal boy drama my mind kept insisting on, I reminded myself of the fall festival happening just tomorrow. Luckily, we had set-up a good part of the booths, but truthfully, I felt myself slacking off into the daydreaming nightmare that Syaoran had so effortlessly created of my mind. But really, it wasn't even him, it was all Rika. No, I couldn't blame her, let's blame Takashi. But…why would he have said that? Had Syaoran made mention of me in any sort of way that would suggest that? Ugh! Cursed big headed, feeble-minded, dim-witted girl! That's exactly how I feel, like a _girl_. Sure, sure, I'll dress like one, and yes, I may even be a girl, but acting like one? Well…isn't it all I've been searching for? Love? Kind of…sort of? Yes, but not with anyone else but Shouta Watanabe.

"Kinomoto-san, there you are!" and speak of the devil, Shouta had traced my steps.

"Ah, yes, Watanabe-kun?" I turned, determined to keep my poise intact, at least for this time.

"I just wanted to talk for a bit" he said, not really hinting at anything.

"Oh, um, about?" I couldn't feel the blushing invading my face; I couldn't feel my nerves agitating, not today. Maybe it's because we haven't spoken in so long? Or possibly, we've somehow reached another level of love where you're entirely comfortable that nothing really matters?  
No. I barely even know the boy.

"Well, tomorrow, I know you'll be busy with the setting up and everything"

"We'll both be busy, don't think you're getting out of this one" so maybe if I tease him a little, I'll feel some kind of spark electrocuting my inexperienced heart.  
Nope.

"Hah, I know, I don't plan on it, but hey, I was just thinking…maybe" he spoke casually, but he didn't finish. I saw his big eyes search across the empty halls of the Engineering building, and I heard the footsteps of someone trying to open a locker, but I didn't look back.

"Maybe?"

"Oh well, maybe you'd like to go with me to the festival…?" it was then when I saw the light I had stubbornly been searching for in Shouta's sweet honey eyes, but it could have been the sun hitting his face too.

I felt a smile tug at my face, my heart once more, felt warm…but it wasn't comforted. I couldn't feel the same warmth I felt not too long ago. I was flattered, stunned, on any other day I could have even been ecstatic because after all these years of lollygagging like a love sick puppy, I was a step closer to achieving the one boy I ever wanted. Or perhaps, thought I wanted. I can't think at all.

Before I could reply, I heard the locker previously opened behind us being slammed, without any consideration for anything else. Shouta looked behind my honey colored hair and even managed to roll his eyes. I didn't turn, it could have been anyone. Anyone is not entirely the person that mattered to me right now. As much as I'd like to say Shouta fit that particular criterion…

"Oh, yeah, sure, that'd be kind of…great!" I remembered to smile, I even remembered to inch my voice in a more pleasant manner. It hurt that I _had_ to remember though.

He returned my smile, carefully sealed in genuine happiness, I could feel it.

"Oh, thank God, I thought you were going to say no" he chuckled, as if reminding himself, 'What? Are you crazy? You're Shouta! Why would any girl dare think of saying no to _you_?' but it may have just been me thinking that.

"Oh, no, why would you think that?" I laughed in a light nature, just because I had to say something.

He shrugged, looked around, and neatly placed his hands in his pockets. Shouta was a charming boy, I'll give him that. But he's also a neat boy, who never strays out of place, who never does anything to benefit himself but others…because he's perfect. Am I just realizing this now? Or is it just now bothering me?

"I don't know…for a while I thought you and Li, well…" he didn't even have to say it, because my steaming face must have told him everything I persistently denied.

"Wha-What?" I squeaked; I bet he heard it. Curse these girlish thoughts, and feelings, and heart, everything I wanted, well, teenage youth, you can have it back. All I need are my straight A's, my spotless school transcript, and New York. Nothing else, Syaoran…

"Ah, so the rumors are true" Shouta spoke, forgetting his charm at home.

"N-No! Ugh, not even, I'm just incredibly tired, that's all" suddenly, I felt as if I were talking to Tomoyo.

"I mean, if you like the guy that much, whatever, it's cool" I heard a voice in Shouta I never thought to imagine. Jealousy, maybe? No, Sakura, don't be so full of yourself! Jeez, he just asked you to go to the fall festival…you're going to be setting it up together anyway.

"I don't, at all, really" I hoped my strict voice convinced him (at least one of us).

"Great! Then, meet you there at five?" He smiled, but it felt hollow, and I felt a sinking feeling in my gut.

* * *

"Are you serious, that's why you're so pissed off?" If I could punch Eriol in the face and legally get away with it, I wouldn't hesitate one bit.  
But what did I expect when talking of my "feelings" with another man? …Or boy.

"Alright, whatever, just forget it" I sighed, rolling my eyes as I got up from Eriol's couch.

"Nah, nah, nah, man, just…hahahah, you are so incredibly jealous, it's…incredible!" Eriol punched at my ego even further, like Sakura hadn't done enough of that today.

"I never said I was jealous, I said my pride was demolished" I mumbled, recovering in the poetic grace I secretly knew of.

"Because another man is taking your woman out, hmm, am I right or am I right?" he winked, suggesting Sakura and me to be more than reality intended.  
In reality, everything I thought of embracing had just gone down the drain about an hour ago.

About an hour ago when I decided to head back to Eriol's locker and pick up his biology II book, when I decided I could discretely eavesdrop on Shouta and Sakura's conversation, when I thought that maybe I would hear anything sound with my mind. Of course, I selfishly disregarded the only fact about Sakura Kinomoto relevant to my chances of love: she was crazy for Shouta. You know, like GIRL crazy. I bet she has a few corners of her papers doodled in his honor.  
Asshole.

"Eriol shut the fuck up"

"I already did that, and then you kept on babbling about your girl problems so I was forced to help you"

"Don't start right now"

"Because your heart's been shattered to a million pieces?" He laughed shamelessly, forgetting any remnants of our friendship.

I sighed quietly, plopping my entire body on his couch. His home, much like my own, normally remained empty, safe for himself and his enormous cat, Yue. If I had known better, I would say he lived by himself. Of course, I've seen his parents a couple of times, maybe on the holidays. But generally, he was left on his own. Which I suppose, would give him enough time to think of all the crazy shit he does.  
Really, the boy has too much time on his dirty hands.

"Why do you think she said yes anyway?" I mean, we had _just_ gone out on a date Saturday. Oh, Sakura, you heartless seductress…but not really.

Eriol took his glasses off, blinked a few times, rubbed his left eye (only the usual), and then finally reposed back against the couch, letting his feet rest on the table.

He hummed, then said, "Well, you did mention she had a huge thing for him, that should help"

It wasn't really what I wanted to hear. Saturday gave me everything I could want. I was given a warm day, despite the heavy and sudden breezes, I was given two arms in which I realized Sakura would fit rightfully in (because before I had only been blessed with two dull arms, ready to be of proper use), and everything came crumbling down to this? No, this couldn't possibly be the end. I might have been acting a little melodramatic though, maybe a lot.

"I guess…I don't know, everything just felt completely different Saturday"

"Girls are completely different, Syaoran"

"You don't say…" I mumbled, trailing amongst the thoughts of my brittle heart.

Abruptly, Eriol stood up, stretched right in sync with Yue, and let out a grunt.  
"Come on, we need to get you out and about before you start your period"

"Fine, fine, what's on your mind?"  
But Eriol had no time to respond, not before my phone rang in my pocket, the one ringtone assigned to dear Mother.

"Yep?"

"Xiao Lang, is that any way to address your dear Mumsie?"

"I don't have a _Mumsie_" and I'd rather not call you that ever, Yelan.

"Oh, sweetie…suck it up, anyway, I need you home immediately"

"Did someone die?" if I cared, the monotone presence invading my voice concealed it so well.

"Oh, no, not that I know of, but anyway, this is urgent, boy"

I didn't so much care when she indifferently called me names like, sweetie, or pumpkin, or even _bosom of my tender life_ (…um), but when it came to calling me boy, I couldn't help but feel like a child slave in an eastern European country working under a very unfair and airtight contract for a pompous, sophisticated arse.

"I'll be right there" I ended the call and placed my phone in my back pocket.

"Got to go?" Eriol, being the bright ray of sunshine he was, caught on.

"Yeah, I'm afraid it's urgent" I sighed, brushing a hand through my impeccable mess of hair.  
It just always manages to stay that way.

"Well, it's cool, so long as you're not acting like a little bitch all day"

"Oh, don't you worry about me, Mother, I'll be just fine and dandy!" the sarcasm in my fake English accent didn't even bother apologizing, it just seemed to be the usual in the accumulated years of friendship Eriol and I discovered.

We walked to his front door, "See ya later man"

"Later!" he waved his hand at me, I saluted him back.

The walk home should have taken me about ten minutes at most. Why did it feel like forever? Has time always been this slow whenever Sakura had no meaning in my life? Is it that simple? You like someone, so you notice them even more right, or is it that you start noticing them more that you eventually like them? No, I've always noticed her. It's crazy though, you think, "Fuck it, I'll go to school, study, find a beautiful and intelligent girl to marry, have children and die of old fucking age", and you completely forget to investigate all those little details in your outline, until they hit you right in the face, and you have no clue what to make of them.  
Sakura, you're that little detail in my outline right now, what am I supposed to make of you?

I reached home, and noticed the family car running, both Mother and Feimei in it.

"What took you so long? We're ready!"Feimei complained from the passenger seat as I got in the back.

"Well, it's not like I even knew what we were doing" I retorted, my eyes glaring at mother.

"You didn't tell him?" Feimei asked, apparently unaware of the reasons behind my tardy.

"Oh, right, Xiao Lang, we have another dinner with the Kinomoto's today"

My heart stopped. Why?

I couldn't face her; I couldn't face her when she had just accepted Shouta on a great fucking evening of leisure and whatever the hell they felt like doing during the fall festival, no, definitely not today. Besides, I could not stand listening to a single word relating to Shouta, not today.

"W-What?" the knots in my voice were probably heard by mother and understood by Feimei.

"Is there a problem with that?" Feimei asked, an eyebrow arched on her face.

"Whatever" I mumbled and fastened my seat belt.

The rest of the car ride went by slow, despite the accelerated velocity at which my thoughts were speeding. I tried not to pay attention to Regina Spektor on the radio, because I had found out Sakura idolized Regina Spektor just a couple of days ago. Anything to heighten the elevated fears my heart currently sank in because of Sakura should cease to exist (sorry, Regina).

"And we are here!" Feimei squealed, jumping out of her seat belt.  
I had a feeling this had to do with meeting her prince Touya in only a couple of seconds.

Mother and I followed behind her, entering the less glamorous restaurant than the first time, nonetheless, still elegant. Our host greeted my family, immediately seating us at our secluded table. Fujitaka sat at the table, smiling politely as ever, his glasses adorning the signature prim Kinomoto face. Touya sat next to him, currently assigning something on his Blackberry. And Sakura…

She sat next to Touya, looking around, a light blush on her cheeks, and even then…I couldn't figure out why she appeared so nervous. You're Sakura; you're always poised, smiling at the universe because it's all the love that exists in your emerald blessed eyes.

"Yelan, how are you?" Fujitaka cheerfully asked, as he stood up to bow before us all.

We each pulled up a chair, nodded back and smiled. Feimei, of course, sat in front of Touya, elating in the happiness of having Touya all to herself must have been the treat of her week so far.

Mother, for convenience, sat in front of Fujitaka, so inevitably, the seat reserved just for me, and no one else, remained in front of Sakura. Oh, God, this feels like the first dinner all over again.

I looked directly at Sakura.  
It was now or never, Syaoran Li, you must face your dreams, or nightmares.

"So, here we are again" I managed to say, nervously chuckling.

"Ah, yes…again" she giggled lightly; I felt the nervousness on her lips.

She stayed quiet after, and again, I felt a knot tighten my throat. The same irritation itching at my back, crawling towards my face, but before it could show in any way, I spoke.

"So, you gonna be busy with that fall festival or what?" there it was, that _or what_, I had heard so much of. The very same I easily categorized as jealousy, oh malignant Karma, always available on my desperate days.

She looked up, finally, and said, "Um…well, kind of"

I felt traces of Shouta in her response, so I felt the need to investigate further on, I had to.

"Oh, really, huh, think you'll have some time for your peers?" I knew she knew I knew.

"Uh well, actually, you know, it's funny, because" she couldn't go any longer. Her lips trembled silently, poking at the wounds my ego and pride already suffered quietly in.

"That busy, neh?" I wouldn't let her off that easy.

She gulped, "Shouta asked me out to the fall festival"

The waiter came and served our drinks, as if on cue, my lips were too busy to fumble with words. I sipped on my drink, looking at the menu, but decided on absolutely nothing.

"Well, that's great, see, I didn't even have to help you" I sipped even more, pretending to be too busy to notice the light sarcasm in my words.

She laughed a little, "I suppose not…"

Conversations bustled around us through the dinner. And we stood just where we started, square one.  
She twirled the ends of her loosely curled hair, tapped her foot to the rhythm of tension and looked down at the table cloth. The only difference in this dinner was that she didn't bother with the pretense of manners, not one bit. Did she feel guilty? Of what, I mean, she had made it clear we weren't drabbling with _anything_ but a mere friendship, didn't she? I didn't care for it; I made that clear for myself. And I certainly wouldn't let that escape me now.

"Sakura, let's go walk"

She looked up, bright eyed, blinking a couple of times. "Huh?"

The déjà vu grasped me uncomfortably; there wasn't a bone in me that wanted to think everything we had experienced just these two weeks was all in the sake of make-believe.

"You heard me" I blankly said, already gotten up, and tugging her by her powder blue sleeve.  
"We'll take only a second, father!" she shouted out as I pulled her by her wrist, the door closing in on her words. I noticed Touya's sketchy stare, and hoped there weren't any thoughts behind those dark eyes.

We stood outside the restaurant, in the light of the closing sun, bidding its farewell. It set across Sakura's astonished face, beautifully enhancing all the loveliness I already knew of.  
Her lips messed around with words, but never allowed them to be said.

"You…you called me by my first name?" I wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement.

And I realized what I had done, to me though; it apparently wasn't as big of a deal as it was to Sakura. But because it felt a big deal to Sakura, suddenly, I slipped into the gravity of what it meant to call Sakura out loud by her name, and blushed.

"Oh, uh, yeah, that, impulse, sorry" I coughed out, my confidence slowly fading, but I reposed.

"It's alright…you can call me that" she said, smiling a bit, nervously too.

I looked at her, smiled because she smiled, but also because there was an abrupt pleasantness in being allowed to say 'Sakura' to the very daintiness herself.

"Okay, but anyway, I want to talk to you about something" I said, trying to regain the impromptu confidence I found a couple seconds ago. It just wasn't the same.

"Oh, um, about?" there was a hesitating factor in her voice, and also an irking graze I felt, knowing this was a similar conversation she must have had with Shouta today.

"About well, um" and to be completely honest, I had no idea what I wanted to confront her about anymore. Was it any of my business that she was finally going on a date with the guy in her dreams? Who knows, he might have even been the guy _of_ her dreams. I couldn't judge whatever she felt for Shouta, not when I was in a similar position.

"Yes..?" she cocked her head to the side, a cute gesture that fit her so nicely.

"You know what…it's nothing" I finally said.

She looked closely at my eyes, her face too close, so close I had to inch mine closer.  
Our eyes danced in the tangle we had created, and I noticed her sudden unnerving look. She backed off; gaining the former Sakura pose that initially caught my attention. She smiled, poked my arm and said,  
"If you keep acting this way, I really might think you're starting to like me"

So should I keep acting this way?

"You are such a flirt, Sakura" I laughed, hoping some truth could be known.

She blushed greatly, biting her lip and looking down. Had I broken that confident barrier Sakura Kinomoto, the social and intellectual elite of Tomoeda, possessed and harnessed too eloquently? Because here stood a shy girl, blushing madly at the accusations blurted before her…is it needless to say this was refreshingly adorable for her? So I laughed.

"Ugh, look, I'm just kidding!" the impatience she normally contained had left her entirely, it seemed. She grumbled at me, her eyes shut in humiliation at her admitted fault, as her arms were crossed against her chest. She looked pouty and grumpy, another side of Sakura I felt happy to see.

"I know, I know, but, it's so cheesy!" I said between laughs, and she blushed even more.

"Whatever, like you're any better at this!" she huffed and puffed.

"Oh? Who said we were supposed to be flirting?" I arched an eyebrow.  
Are you simply pursuing a friendship, Sakura? I would really like to know.

"I, uh…ugh, you are so frustrating!" she grumbled even more, like a girl. Fussing with the light amount of teasing I had tossed at her. She was so much fun to poke at, so much fun to twirl in my hands. And yet, she could easily do the same to my heart with any given action.

"You know, Sakura, I think I really do like you" I finally said, genuinely smiling, letting it sink into her. I would confess as many times, because knowing Sakura, it probably wouldn't reach her for another million light years. Of course, she just had to blush.

"Shut up" she mumbled, as she began to walk away, tugging at her white coat, her pink boots stepping the sidewalk. I couldn't help but grin at her retreating back, I guess you'll never really know, Sakura. Oh, no, definitely not know just what you do to me.

We walked the streets of downtown Tomoeda once more. Her long, loosely curled hair casually embracing her heart-shaped face, her eyes busy with thoughts, knowing her, words I had previously admitted. She was probably in denial though…or thinking of Shouta.

The silence was broken by her cat ringtone, meowing the theme song of some anime show she apparently watched. She looked startled, remembering the family she had once again left at the dinner, and searched through the chaos of her Chanel purse.

"Moshi moshi?" she answered politely, even if she knew who it was.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Of course, the voice of Touya boomed loud enough into my own ears.

"Ah, onii-chan!"

"Who else would it be, your fucking boyfriend?"

"Onii-chan! Don't be ridiculous; what're you even talking about?"

"Listen, where are you?"

Sakura looked around for a street name, finally reaching one she replied.

"Well, come back immediately, I don't trust that Chinese kid" I rolled my eyes upon hearing his insult.  
Twenty some years-old and still wallowing in the misery of knowing your younger sister will one day be happily teased by another man, just ridiculous.

Sighing, Sakura looked at me, a serious look in her eyes reserved for Touya himself.

"I think we should head back"

I shrugged, "If you say so"

"Well, Touya does" she quietly said.

"Apparently so" I sighed, rolling my eyes in the remembrance of his exact words.

The restaurant appeared before us, lit up in the magic of the early moonshine. Sakura's eyes were heavy with worry.  
I placed my hand on her shoulder, and she looked directly in my eyes. I saw the moon and the stars and the sun and the pretty little dew on a spring's meadow all at once.  
Crazy, right.

"I'll explain, don't you worry your pretty little head about it"

"I don't like it when you say that…" she mumbled, a lightly rosy blush adoring her cheeks.

"It's a common phrase, silly" I rebutted, somehow diminishing the actual truth in it.

We entered the restaurant, walking towards our reserved table, and noticed all eyes were in our direction. Fujitaka appeared to be in a normal state, a smile gracing his face; Feimei's eyes were locked on her iPhone, Yelan had a smirk across her face (I knew this smirk), and Touya…well, he looked like Touya pissed off.

"Where were you two? Why didn't you answer my texts? Who said you could leave?" the Touya Kinomoto questions flooded like an endless questionnaire. And Sakura, the clueless correspondent became smaller and smaller under the weight of each question.

"We were just outside, talking about school" I answered for her, throwing a poorly made-up story.

Yelan _giggled_, yeah, mother giggled, and Fujitaka lifted an eyebrow.

"Touya, please sit, I think I've got more important news to let them know of" Fujitaka interrupted, knowing just when his son would go too far.

"Oh, nu-uh, that boy is not going with us, he can't be trusted" Touya glared shamelessly at me, geez, and here I had to be the respectful one.  
So I bore my stare, knowing it bothered him.

"Going where?" Sakura looked at Fujitaka, filled with the awful curiosity she was known for.

Fujitaka smiled and glanced at Yelan, then back at Sakura.

"Well, we've decided exactly how, or actually, _where_ promoting should begin" I felt like a child.  
A child being spoken to by his parents, parents fresh with decision-making and firm with determination in announcing their future plans.

"So, for the remainder of November, we'll be taking a promotion tour through Europe, starting with Milan" Again, if mother could squeal, she would have just now.

Sakura lit up, a glow fitting her so easily, as she smiled a smile of pearly whites, and actually squealed (both for her and mother it seemed).

"Oh really? That's so great! Oh goodness, all the dresses I could buy, and imagine, all the designers, and the models, oh God, I could just melt!"

"Relax; it's just Milan, not sex" I coughed, comfortable enough to announce such a comment.

Both Kinomoto siblings glared at me, Touya blurting, "Which she will never have!"  
Feimei laughed, loudly, forgetting her discretion in the absolute.

"Touya, please, we're in company" Fujitaka groaned, referring to us. Of course, your company, Fujitaka, was just as crude as it could get, including mother (oh, God, especially including mother).

But Touya returned to his composed manners, finally sitting down, allowing Fujitaka to work out the details of announced trip.

"It's a little sudden, but Yelan and I have been working the details for some time now, we've managed to reach an arrangement with your school, so you'll be able to receive your assignments online, plus, attendance will be counted with every assignment you turn in on time"

"Oh, thank goodness!" only Sakura would say that.

I nodded, knowing of the respect I should give Fujitaka, he really deemed it.

The rest of the dinner was spent planning, Feimei and Sakura chattered about clothes, European men, perfume, all things feminine, while Touya was left to mentally murder me with every suspecting hunch he had saved just for me. I would smirk every once in a while, knowing it pissed him off. It could have been a Kinomoto thing, but it was just way too easy of a task to accomplish.

The dinner came to an end, and I found myself walking towards the family car, in the company of Yelan and Feimei.  
We had bid our goodnights to the Kinomoto family seconds ago, and now airily walked into the car, driving home in the silence of a November night.

"Xiao Lang, that girl, you like her, huh" Feimei, rather than questioning, spoke.

I looked into the rearview mirror, and closed my eyes.

"Feimei, that man, you like him, huh" I replied in the exact same format of her words.

"Oh, no, no children, I've got dibs on Fujitaka!" Mother joked, I hoped anyway.

"He meant Touya!" Feimei grumbled, annoyed at a mention of her mother's existing love life.

"I never mentioned any names" a smirk crossed my lips, my eyes still closed.

"Well, do you like her or not?" Feimei ignored my comment.

I opened my eyes and looked at her through the rearview mirror. "What do you think?"

* * *

I don't like Shouta.

I don't like him; I didn't like him when he asked me out. I don't remember liking him when he helped me during the fall festival decorations. It's obvious, everyone's right, everyone who knows of Syaoran Li, is right. I liked Shouta's honey eyes, and I even liked his dark hair, but to say Shouta is the boy I picture myself with tomorrow, or the next day, darn it, any given day…is a complete lie.

I lay on my bed, my honey colored hair sprawled on my pillow, my hands clutching on to the enormous Choco- Cat stuffed toy, the only concept they seemed capable of grasping on to, concrete material. It would be a bold-faced lie to say Syaoran meant nothing to me. He meant countless of laughs, and smirks, blushes and face gestures, words of wit and words of confessionals, he meant all of this and potentially more. In theory, he may have liked me…oh, Sakura, don't do this again. It was a rumor, a simple lie that could be understood for so much more. Would I like this to be so much more?

I got up from my bed, and noticed the navy blue jacket on my desk. He had forgotten it at the table, so I rushed out, hoping to see him, because I needed to give it to him, that's it. But the only remnant of his existence in the parking lot was the rumbling of his car, far out in the distance. Syaoran, you are a frustration I've never had the privilege of meeting. You're a boy, I barely know of you, and still, you plague my mind more so than Shouta ever thought to. Does this mean I like you? I don't know.

My eyes returned to the navy blue jacket. I should give it to him tomorrow, then again, would that be enough to see him? I mean, I'll be rather busy with decorations and signing sheets, and checking up on progress of the school's clubs, it would be so much, so could I possibly squeeze this one thing in? After all, he _is_ in the neighborhood, is it alright to just…go over and return it? This casually at night?

I looked at my clock, it was already 10:49, of course I'd be a damn fool to expect everything and everyone to be 'okay' with me returning it now. So why was I putting on my shoes and leaving my house in my pajamas? God, remind me why it just so happens to be for Syaoran Li?

I quietly closed the front door, knowing any sound could easily wake up Touya, and looked up Syaoran's name in my phonebook. I called his number, and after a couple unsettling rings, a rather surprised voice picked up.

"Uh, hello?"

"Li? It's Sakura"

"_Yeah_, I thought so" Right, caller ID, duh, Sakura!

"I know this is all weird and stuff, but um, you kind of forgot your jacket at the restaurant, would you mind, um, you know, if I gave it to you?"

There was a silence on his end, and a silence in my heart.  
You idiot, it's late at night, why on earth would he even be okay with interrupting his sleep just to get a jacket he could easily have the next day?  
This isn't even like me.

"Where are you?" Syaoran's voice returned, a bit breathless it seemed.

"I'm walking to your – "the sight before me cut every inch of letters that could have possibly be uttered.

Syaoran came into sight, clad in pajamas as well, his hands behind his head as he began to catch his breath.  
Did he really plan on running all the way to my house? What the hell, heart, please be still! Ugh, again with the girly feelings.

He looked at me, his eyes widened. A blush stroked his cheeks, and a smile caressed mine.

"Meet me halfway?" I called out loudly from my spot.

"Right at the borderline, that's where I'm gonna wait for you~" I laughed at the ludicrous lyrical selection he had decided to sing.

"Black Eyed Peas, not bad" I giggled my reply, as we walked towards the lamp post at the corner of our neighborhood.  
A bench stood right by it, everything seemed to be in place with my decision.

"Oh well, Eriol and I are big Fergie fans"

"I forgive you"

"For?"

"Having such terrible taste in music!" I laughed lightly as Syaoran raised his eyebrows and smirked at my reply.  
We walked towards the bench and sat beneath the moonlight, or lamp post light…whichever would be more romantic, if and only if, there were anything romantic about Syaoran and me…together.

"Well, what about you Beethoven?" he asked, leaning back on the bench, stretching his arms.  
I nearly thought he'd pull a cheesy hand on shoulder move, like in all the bad romance movies I had sinfully indulged in with Tomoyo.

"Ah, well, I don't know if you're all that ready to know" I felt comfortable again, oh, silly girl…how does he manage to make you nervous and comfortable just with his wording?

"That bad, huh" he sighed, making me laugh once more.

"No, it's actually that great, I don't know if your Fergie infested mind could handle it"

"If I can handle Fergie, I can handle just about anything "he winked, in a mockery of sensuality.

I hummed a song I knew best by heart, tickling little melodies my mother knew best, hoping they'd hum their way into whatever Syaoran knew best.  
Oh, if he knew this song, I bet he'd know part of my heart.

"You really got a hold on me, you really got a hold on me~" there was a low voice brushing my own, I turned to Syaoran, and found he unlocked a tiny part of my heart.  
I wonder if Shouta would sing along.

"Baby, I don't want you, but I need you, don't wanna kiss you~" I felt warm enough to sing along, maybe like Shouta would have, maybe like he wouldn't even know the lyrics, but either way, I knew if I stopped, I'd be left stranded on the same island I have been for the past couple of days.

"But I need to~" he softly sang my finishing lyric, singing was not his preferred sport, I could tell, and perhaps for Smokey Robinson it would have been deemed suitable to have a soulful voice, but not for me, not for Syaoran. We stopped in unison, resting our minds against our thoughts. Suddenly, I wasn't so nervous, grant it, I don't know what I'm doing, but I knew of Syaoran to be…to be a lot of things I didn't know.

"Smokey Robinson?" he spoke after several seconds of breathing.

"Mhm…" I quietly replied, my eyes closed, certainly not wanting to disrupt whatever was going on.

Who exactly are you, Syaoran Li? I don't really know anything about you. I know you're the quiet student in class, you could careless for socializing, and who just doesn't give a damn if there's a school function that would benefit you, because regardless, you are not going. You miss homework assignments once in a while but still manage to ace your exams, especially when it matters. I know back in fifth grade you had an irritatingly loving cousin visiting from China, I remember you hiding after school, pretended to be interested in helping out with detention, just so you wouldn't see her. I even remember being upset because Mizuki sensei told me to go home, that "Syaoran would be responsible for cleaning up after school".

"Li…"

"Hm?"

We didn't look at each other. It's kind of like we understood what we each thought was playing along with one another. Am I finally doing what's right? Oh, why do I have break apart every little action, or word or adjective that pertains to Syaoran? Ugh, I'm not even being allowed to call him that after I rightfully let him call me Sakura, actually, in my defense, he stepped right into that one!

"I don't think I like Shouta"

He stood up from his relaxed position, what surprised me was his own look of surprise. His eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted, nearly forming a full 'o', his eyebrows poised in the same manner.

"W-What? W-Why?" did I hear a stutter? And do I see a blush?

_Supposedly, Syaoran's kind of had this crush on Sakura since forever ago or something_

No, lies, lies, he doesn't even like me!

"Yeah, I uh, I don't know…can I tell you something?"

"Go for it"

"I…I didn't feel a thing when he asked me out"  
This is what I couldn't admit to myself earlier today. All of those prickly fears I denied earlier, everything I wanted to justify and yet, failed to even back-up, came flooding like a storm on this very late night time with Syaoran. It could have been because Shouta wasn't here, because not one bit of his particular being even bothered with my mind, not all day.

"So, that's how you know?"

"Oh, well I don't know! I've never really had a boyfriend or anything" I mumbled these last few words, he probably knew of my rather embarrassing dating life though.  
I'm sure everyone knew.

"Wait, didn't you go out with some college guy last year?" luckily for me, he sounded a bit shocked.  
Or maybe he had the courtesy of sparing my feelings. Wait…Syaoran? Nah.

"College…guy?" and still, the rumors had flown right by me.

"Yeah, that tall guy, glasses, he walked you to school?"  
Oh my goodness, Yukito, thank you so much! You've made my four years of high school not entirely or terribly embarrassing as a straight-edge, prudish, virgin child.

"Ooh, Yukito!"

"Uh yeah, sure"

"He never was my boyfriend" I'll admit, as nice as it was thinking I ever did have but one boyfriend, I couldn't lie about Yukito.  
Not when lying sent chills up and down my spine.

"Ah…so then, you really do think you don't like Shouta"

"No, I really do know" I had to be brave, I had to be bold.

"How do you really know?"

I stopped my words, bobbed my head against the bench once, and looked at Syaoran.  
I stared right into his soft autumn eyes, declared every speck much more brilliant than they were last year in my life, and smiled.

"It's 11:11"

"Only you would believe in things like that" he scoffed, a tiny smirk lingering still.

"Shut up and make a wish!" I hushed him by lightly slapping his arm, clasping my hands tightly, and closing my eyes. I hope he wasn't staring.

A couple seconds…those seconds become thirty seconds…and then fifty and now sixty.

"Done!" I announced, looking at Syaoran, who had the drunkest of smiles on his face.

I narrowed my eyes at him, made sure he felt their burn, and punched his arm once more.

"Ow! Eesh, I see why you haven't had a boyfriend yet" he mumbled, but I heard all the same.

"Oh, like I need your opinion!" I felt my flustered cheeks, so I stood up and slammed his navy blue jacket at his face, stalking off home.  
I couldn't let the burning of my face to another reason for further insult.

"Oi, I was kidding!" I felt his footsteps pace quickly after me; I felt my heart pace quickly after him.

I turned around and noticed we both stood in pajamas at 11 o'clock-ish, outside under the moonshine (and lamp post, I guess).  
The cold air hadn't bothered me before, it didn't matter that it gave me goose bumps, much less that it made my teeth chatter lightly.

"It's getting late…"

"And cold" I added, hugging myself tightly.

Syaoran looked at my bare shoulders, obviously wearing a thin strap shirt wasn't the brightest of ideas I thought of in a while, and then again, nothing on my mind lately had entirely been the brightest of ideas.

"Take it" he demanded, as he tossed it over my shoulders.  
Just like a damn romantic comedy movie. Damn it, damn it all, damn all those Saturday movie frenzies, and damn this stupid aching…or fluttering of my heart, whatever.

"Um…you sure?"

"Yeah" he smiled, not that half-assed smile he sends me during school, it's that smile I'm sure even Eriol's seen like, once or twice every six months.

"I should get going then" I spoke, not wanting to ask if I should give his navy blue jacket back tomorrow.

"Yeah, I'll see ya' tomorrow"

"Goodnight Li"

I walked back home, but not before I heard Syaoran call for me once more.

"Hey, Sakura"

"Yeah?"

"You can call me Syaoran, if you want"

My heart rumbled in the blushing sprawled across Syaoran's cheeks. How many times had I seen this? Did it prove anything?  
Maybe he was coy, or shy, maybe that's why he didn't socialize all that much, but then again he didn't have too much of a problem getting girlfriends, and still…he was blushing here before me.

"If I want?" I teased, enjoying every second of it.

"Right"

"Alright, see ya Li"

I walked off, completely pretending to deny the honor he had just granted me.

"Well, thanks, Kinomoto!" I heard all the seriousness in his yell, and couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm just kidding!" I called between laughs, running back to him. His back faced me, so I playfully pounded on him, nearly begging for his forgiveness.

"No, no, I suppose we're back to square one now"

"Oh my gosh, Syaoran, you are so sensitive!" I giggled, poking his chest as he turned.  
Look at me! Slapping, and punching, pounding and poking…where did this flirtatious monster come from?

But I suppose his name was enough for him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sakura" He smiled, a dimple peeking out. I smiled back, as I began to walk back.

Once at home, safe in bed, I felt my covers uncover everything beneath my soul. Lying underneath everything, ruffling beneath my covers, tossing about my bed, closing and opening my eyes, these were the patterns that followed the nightmare Syaoran Li had incinerated in my heart.

Don't run, my heart whispered, don't run now, and don't look back, because you are exactly where you want to be. 

* * *

There ya' go!  
To be perfectly honest, this is probably my least favorite chapter, its way too long and well, I'm not sure I'm progressing at the pace I would like to be at. At least Sakura's over Shouta, yay! And all it took was some skeptical feedback from Syaoran's status on his possible feelings. Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, the story will probably end around 9-10 chapters, unless that's too much? You tell me.

Please review, I would like some feedback as a contribution for chapter five, thank you! :}

And also, please notify me of any grammatical errors, I was a bit less picky about this chapter :s


	5. I want to

CAUTION: MILDLY ANNOYING WHINING UP AHEAD

Alright, here is the deal. My fan fiction life is on a depression. I'm pretty sure my story is crap compared to plenty of others that are practically review magnets, and I know the number of reviews I have been receiving are wonderful, really…I just wish there were more TT-TT

I can't help but hate my story otherwise, it's silly, yes, but it happens¬¬. It might be a tad bit boring, but I suppose my style is to blame. I notice I pay attention to detail too much, I often forget about the big picture. Maybe if I focused less on emphasizing the character's feelings and more on making the storyline _exciting_, something might happen to make my story OMG AMAZING. It's really hard to break this pattern though. But I'll try adding some spice here and there, for all of you! Because believe it or not, you are all my vitality in this fan fiction world! Heh. Well, here's another boring ol' chapter, but a chapter nevertheless. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

Oh, and happy new year! (a little late, but you know).  
Again this, ~, indicates singing.

* * *

The weather by the coast should be pleasantly mild. Tomoeda is a tiny prick on the coast of Japan's body; it's so mediocre it might as well be a truck stop next to a three-star strip club off the expressway. People here say it's the quality of our working hands, every single finger filled with the blood of young and old age, that's really what's important. People forget the filthy blood that makes up most of Tomoeda. It's not even criminal blood, because then Tomoeda would have scraps of attention, it's that filthy, wholeheartedly complacent blood. That happy appeal that screams satisfaction through mediocrity, because really, all Tomoeda's achieved is a quiet home filled with mildly amused folks.

And that's where I stood, on a lonely, breezy Friday night at Tomoeda Academy's annual fall festival.  
I hardly attended these things, and there are irrelevant reasons why, but there are also reasons why I stood beside a desperately antsy Eriol in a crowd of happy Tomoeda folks near the auditorium.

"Geez, Eriol, calm down, what the fuck did you take anyway?"

Eriol was crazy; I'm not sure how crazy anymore because he had recently learned how to keep secrets (especially with himself), but I knew nothing of a substance related issue with him.

"Syaoran, shut up, I think I'm claustrophobic" maybe he was, because he was squirming and shoving around the bodies comfortably pressing against his lanky, pale seventeen year old upper body. Keep in mind, Eriol's caused the entire student body to worry over his hypochondriac behavior.  
Really, screaming in tones of anxiety, "Oh God, dear God, I can't see, my eyes, oh goodness, the light it's here! Someone, anyone, get me out of this prison, the flu…the swine flu...it- it's possessed –choke–me!" in the middle of the cafeteria isn't the smartest of reactions when you sneeze three times in a row.

"You're fine, if anything happens…well, rest assure nobody ever gave a shit about you"

Eriol turned his head from the stage; he easily managed to squirm his way through the can of anchovies surrounding us, and I instantly remembered the Eriol I normally knew of, a selfishly dramatic attention-whore. Everything would be fine.

"Dear, let's not speak ill of the dead now" his eyes were locked on mine, pretending a seriousness that would suit a panda bear more so.

"Eriol, baka, you're not dead" I flicked his forehead.

"Oh, but it certainly feels like it, don't you think?" he turned and asked an old woman swimming under a vast sea of wrinkles, decked in way too much clothing, from the very length of her neck, to the exact flooring of her feet.

"Hmph, may God bless your wretched soul, young man" the lofty rumple of a woman swished her elongated nose in Eriol's opposite direction, and stalked off, somehow managing against the hoard of impatient spectators.

We waited for the silence to consume our experience with the elderly, prudent snob, and as it did, I noticed the stage pile up with instruments.

"Eriol?"

"Hm?"

"You're going to hell"

There was stillness in our conversation, a stillness we never paid any mind to.

"Yes, I know" he sighed, feigning disappointment and shook his head sideways.  
He pushed his glasses against his cobalt coals for eyes and grinned.

"Hey, Syaoran, about yesterday…" there was a sly trickery in his voice, and for the past few weeks, I had come to learn that whenever trickery had a voice it normally pertained to an issue of Sakura Kinomoto.

"Yes, Eriol, yesterday was a Thursday, you also forgot to turn in your research paper to Terada-sensei"

"Oh, that old thing, I'm exempt"

"No, you're not; he called you out on it"

"…Syaoran, jealousy is a devious parasite, let it go"

I sighed; at least we had lost a matter I did not want to discuss, certainly not amidst the deceiving sea that is the hearsay folk of Tomoeda.

"Jesus Christ, when is this going to start!" Eriol exclaimed as he stretched his arms in wary impatience.

"_Ahem_" we turned our heads around and with gleaming amusement; I snorted a laugh at the same old wrinkled woman that had previously scolded Eriol. Tonight may not be Eriol's night, but it was certainly mine.

The old woman glared unabashedly at Eriol, her gray eyes reprimanding every dirty thought steaming behind Eriol's wide cobalt eyes.

"Young man, you will not speak the Lord's name in vain, you hear? Now, scoot!" she shoved Eriol, nearly effortlessly, as she held a plate of nachos and another of funnel cake.

Almost immediately, I let out a laughter that had been constricting my lungs nearly painfully.  
I bent over, my hands holding on to my angled knees, while my laughter only increased in volumes.

Eriol stood there, eyes hooded by minor desperation, but mostly by the thought of a woman, much older and much wiser than Eriol thought himself to be, admonishing every single word he had to utter through the strength of religion. He had no chance.

"Alright…" he said, impatience choking his words.

My laughter did not cease, perhaps the intensity had begun to decline, but it still held existence.

"I get it…"  
Between laughs, I managed to say, "N-No, no you don't!"

He grumbled more curse words at me, as my laughter finally began to settle down.

"You're an ass, here, go buy me something to drink" he shoved some money into my palm, and pushed me against more people he had somehow already managed to find a way of upsetting.

"What, why, just get it yourself" I tried shoving the money back into his cold hands, but he insisted.

"I'm thirsty, and besides…Sakura's working at the drinks booth" the glint in his eyes intended something my heart knew clearly of. I turned my eyes to the booths opposite of the auditorium, and within seconds, I caught the prettiest little head in all of Tomoeda.

"Ah…um, what do you want?" my hoarse voice went ignored by Eriol as he pushed me away.

"Just go!" I heard him shout.

I walked towards her stand, and felt the ground beneath my feet vanish with each step I took. I didn't see Shouta with her; I didn't see anyone with her, but Tomoyo and Takashi. They all seemed equally busy serving drinks and attending people, I almost felt the ground reappear beneath my Converse, guiding me back to the auditorium.

It was then when I looked back and met eye to eye with the lovely honey girl of Tomoeda. Sakura smiled with half of her lips, and shrugged, her eyes filled with the preoccupied setting. She was startled when Takashi poked her lower back, reminding her of the vanilla chai tea pending on her notepad of orders. She smiled politely at him, apologizing. You didn't have to hear a word to figure out Sakura's usual gestures and mannerisms.

"Here you go, thank you!" Sakura said, as she handed the drinks to an underclassmen relishing in the entirety of having the Sakura Kinomoto of Tomoeda Academy smile at his shy demeanor.

She turned around and noticed me standing next in line; Tomoyo glanced at me for only a couple of seconds, and returned to her work.

"Hey man, what's up, can I get you something?" Takashi, clearly the wrong person I wanted to speak to, came up to serve me, and I felt my countenance fall in slight disappointment.  
I also noticed Tomoyo stifling a small laugh…

"Uh, yeah, I'll have a, um…" I trailed off, pretending to stare at the menu hanging above the booth. Behind Takashi, I noticed Shouta walking towards Sakura's workplace from his own booth. She hadn't seen him, or maybe she was pretending not to see him, either way, at this moment in time, there was a crucial decision I had to make. One that could definitely define the remainder of the night.

And Sakura had said she didn't really like Shouta anymore, but let's face it.  
She could have said that because his glorious face wasn't around for Sakura to melt her silly nerves in.

"You know, actually, no, can you get me Sakura?"  
Takashi lifted an eyebrow, and realized, partially, what may have been happening.

He smirked at me and discretely winked, "Yeah, sure, sure" he turned around and called for Sakura; she looked up from one of the cashiers, and was caught in my gaze.

She walked away from her counter, in turn, walking away from Shouta. He looked irked at the failed opportunity. I don't care; I don't care for your disappointment Shouta, not when it's for the sake of my own. He walked back to his booth, recovering smoothly and subtlety, as he went right back to attending his hopelessly enamored fan girls.

"Syaoran, I hope your presence brings good news" she grinned, her hair in a messy bun, wavy tresses adorning her heart-shaped face.  
Her countenance held charm despite the hectic orders she probably had been taking for the past hour.

"Oh, only the best, my lady" I paraded in the chivalry I found two years ago during our English literature skits of King Arthur.

I had succeeded as she covered her giggles, and proceeded to tuck in a few strands of hair behind her ear.  
"You should really order something, or at least pretend to"

I took her words of advice and realized, well, I could just be fussy about this and make her write down an insanely complicated order.  
We'd be here all day long.

"Alright then, let's see, I will have an order of the chai frost, with plenty of star dust"

"Star dust?" she sent me a look of playful incredibility.

"Yes, star dust"

"Like from the sky?"

"Directly from the sky"  
She dropped her notepad and rolled her eyes,"Alright, Tinker Bell – "

"It's Neil Gaiman to you" I interrupted, hoping we'd both manage to find a common interest in my abrupt reference.

She looked up from her notepad and dropped her mechanical pencil on the counter.

"You read" she said, almost in a whisper, but her widened eyes made up for any exaggerations.  
Although it wasn't entirely the reaction I was looking for, it was a reaction to detail, nevertheless.

"Only if there's a movie adaptation" I admitted, wanting to laugh at Sakura's fall from the sudden admiration she held just for me those couple of seconds.

"Baka" she muttered, writing down something on her notepad, then ripping it out and slapping it on to my unoccupied hand.

Before I could look at it, she lightly slapped my hand. "Uh-uh, wait 'till you get home"

"Oh, is it…a love confession?" I mockingly gasped, falling back into a comfort we had left yesterday.

"Syaoran!" she hissed, glancing around for any eavesdropping souls.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh please, Sakura, I'm only kidding, _unfortunately_…"

She smirked, "So will that complete your order?"

I gazed into her emerald filled eyes; she's always been complete. I've never known her, is the difference from today and yesterday, and the day before. I'm not changing her; I couldn't be selfish to suggest the idea to my heart. There are folds she's beginning to uncover, pages she's allowing me to read, the ink is not drying before my eyes…Sakura Kinomoto has been a storybook long before I entered her life.  
There isn't a bone in me that can deny this.

"Just about…" I say lightly, hoping and desperately anticipating Shouta to be finalized out of her heart.

"Well, it'll be right out sir, thank you!" and just as she is about to turn and service the other students, I grab her wrist, despite her _embarrassment_, because I truly need to know.

"Oh, um hey, so, how long are you going to be here?"

Her eyes are shining, but maybe it's just the dying sun preparing her for the incoming night.

"I…I'm off in thirty minutes, but –"

"Alright, I'll see ya' then!" and I cut her off, because I'm a loser completely afraid of rejection.

I keep walking, fear sinking in my skin, had I purposely forced Sakura to see me? No, we're friends, it's all just casual, everything you pretend or intend to do with Sakura Kinomoto, from here on out Syaoran Li, will be casual…strictly casual.

I stood before the auditorium, a sea of heads surrounding Eriol's own.  
He turned in my direction and started flailing his arms in search for my attention. Yep, attention-whore.

"OI, SYAORAN!" he shouted once I stood nearly beside him, sliding against the same elderly woman of before.

"Eriol…" I sighed, pinching his arm.

"O-Ow, neh, Syaoran, what the hell!" he finally released my small hold on his arm.

I allowed him his freedom, as he glared viciously at me, I played along in pseudo-despair.  
"So…how did things go with Kinomoto-hime?"

I arched my eyebrow. Kinomoto-hime is it, now?

"…just _fine_" I mumbled, grasping at the empty space where I should have Eriol's chai frost.

On second thought, maybe walking away hadn't been the "coolest" thing to do.

* * *

When is it that you like someone? Is it because they make witty, silly jokes regarding references you're clearly interested in, or is it because you can't stop that tingling sensation surging through the tips of your fingers only because your heart's too busy settling itself? Maybe it's because I can't keep my mind away from those eyes…that boy, he's got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. It's as if he's captured autumn in there, a season too precious for anyone but he...it's a little selfish, but that may be the whole beauty in him. I do wonder what it's like to have autumn all for yourself.

Or maybe I'm just crazy, because no boy should ever be this poetically significant.  
Especially not seemingly average ones like Syaoran Li.

"S_aa_k_u_r_aa-_ch_aaa_n!" the sing-song voice ringing throughout the drinks booth pertained to the very Takashi Yamazaki.

I've known this boy as long as I've known Syaoran. Unlike Syaoran, Takashi is a boy I've known too well growing up. But to be perfectly honest, Takashi's made up of lies, some brilliant, others completely ridiculous. It's a strange matter, when we were all young and full of good intentions, Takashi's lies were cute, entertaining, we all laughed at how absurd his tall-tales seemed. But it's when your legs and your arms and everything in your body changes that your mind is wrapped around the ideal that lying is a terrible act, and that anyone accused of lying is a liar. No one really likes a liar. Especially liars in high school like Takashi. It's when those endearing tales turn into hurtful misunderstandings, and then no one really cares about you, because you've become a person sprung from a boy's pretending truths.  
Takashi Yamazaki is that boy.

"Ah, yes, Yamazaki-san?"  
My voice is still polite and innocent; because those are the only terms we've become acquainted with after our elementary years.

"Yamazaki-san? Pfft, please, call me…Takashi" he posed in a cheesy imitation of what he thought would appear charming, by pointing his fingers at me and slyly winking.

Tomoyo rolled her eyes and let the smile dance on her ivory flushed skin.  
"Neh, Takashi-kun, I'll have you know Sakura isn't as single as she used to be"

I felt my eyes (and Takashi's) widen as I turned to look at the supposed best friend. The glare taking control of my eyes let Tomoyo know of every scenario playing in my mind: in which Tomoyo Daidouji meets an untimely death by the hands of pure nature (only nature, I swear). Tomoyo shrugged it off as she sent her own wink at me, entirely collected of different components that had structured Takashi's. I don't know what I would do without her sometimes, and yet, the idea swims in the pools of my mind more than occasionally.

"Oh, you don't say, Tomoyo-chan?" Takashi's sinister smile glanced at Tomoyo, the two appreciating the unrequited teasing their resident student council president was forced to endure, an unlikely event in which I had nothing to offer but incessant cries of protest.

I couldn't help but feel my cheeks flourish in an undetermined flush. I shouldn't have any of this. I should have been walking around the festival, playing at several booths accompanied by Shouta, maybe even leaning on his shoulder when I giggled because the boy is just too absurd where his humor is concerned. This is all because the boy should have been absurd in my eyes, his absurdity should have captivated me, enamored me because when we are together we're just crazy and the world, our worlds, is merely one. I'll let you know, none of this ever seemed to progress with Shouta Watanabe. I don't know where things went wrong, but I have a hunch a certain fire eyed boy is to blame.

But I'll be honest…I let him take the blame.

"Sa-ku-raaa!" I blinked to the sound of Takashi waving his pasty hand at me.  
There's another problem; my daydreams have over welcomed their stay, lately.

"Oh, sorry, I, uh, I…I should pee, be right back!" I didn't doubt my departure, because by the looks of those two, questions I didn't want to or know how to answer were ringing in their minds…it was only a matter of time until they began to suffocate me.

I walked by the auditorium, and noticed the concert had already begun. Up on stage stood a small freshman girl fiddling with her acoustic guitar, locks of coal stroked her cheeks as they fell over her shoulder the moment her fingers began to pluck heavenly on the strings. My lips formed a smile, knowing exactly the amount of nerves her hands and fingers, voice and mind must have been experiencing. The last time I can remember trembling on stage ended up pretty well, my voice had not cracked, my fingers had not failed, and my heart had not bailed out on me. I think she would be fine.

My legs carried my mind elsewhere, because my mind had not interfered. It was then that I noticed that I stood across the boy I had managed to ignore for the majority of the night for the sake of my own plans. Shouta laughed, the laugh filled my senses and the guilt crawled in my stomach. He stood by the fishing booth, joking around his friends, his dark hair and honey eyes reminding me that they weren't for me. I felt disappointment fill in the blanks of my mind, debating whether or not confrontation would be necessary. Again, life had its own way of toying with my plans.

"Kinomoto-san?" Shouta called for my attention, and suddenly, the nerves stiffened my legs and captivated my voice in a tight grip, barely allowing a breath of substantial significance.

I turned around, not knowing what to say, but spoke, "Ah, Watanabe-san!"

His eyes sparked in my acknowledgment, but I didn't know what to do. Maybe if Syaoran wasn't on my mind, maybe if he hadn't asked for my time after working, maybe if I knew how my future would pan out, then maybe all these simple situations would really just be that: simple.

But things had to be cleared, I couldn't keep anyone waiting.

"I've been looking for you, Takashi said you'd be out in a couple minutes" he informed me.

I couldn't daydream now, but I couldn't let the thoughts escape me.  
My arms prickled with decision, they tingled with the thoughts of last night, and they were warmed by Syaoran's navy blue jacket.

"Oh, well, yeah, I'm off already" I let a polite smile join our conversation, but nothing else.

He stepped away from his friends as they all nosily turned in our direction, their eyes glancing once in a while, a smile decorating their faces. I recalled a few names from several classes, and noticed one of my own friends graced their company. This was final.

"So, you want to go walk?" he smiled at me! Oh God, he smiled that sweetly warm smile, his lips were curved in a brilliant manner, and his eyes melted in a soft cushion of optimism, sinking like the honey in my chai tea hours ago. My heart stood refined, nothing irregular occurred…nothing like the symptoms of Syaoran Li madness; _I don't think he's the one for you_.

"Um, Watanabe-san…I kind of wanted to talk to you about something" the hesitance in my slightly quivering voice had been picked up by his hearing, this I knew of, because his eyes widen just a bit, and his smile faltered for a second.

"Uh, yeah, sure…what's up?" he almost immediately replied, moving further away from the crowd his friends stood in. I felt a wave of relief settle about my shattered nerves. Maybe the distance from the crowd would gather a distance between us two, amicably, of course.

"Well, I…" my lips felt short of my words.

"You?" he smiled, leaning closer, his hands behind his back as he tilted his head to get a closer view of the sentiments baffling my countenance.

I looked up into his eyes, but then thought about it through. Did he just want to hang out because we were both in the student council, therefore, forming a budding friendship wouldn't be a bother? Was it the same budding friendship I felt for Syaoran? Because if it was…well, I'm afraid that place was taken.

"Watanabe-san, I…what you said about Syaoran last time, well…" the hesitation gripped me even tighter, drowning me in the trembling heaviness of words that couldn't even escape my lips.

"Li?" he lifted an eyebrow and his lips fell in a tight straight line.

"Y-Yeah, well, you see –"I was blushing, I felt it and he could see it.

"No, I get it, it's okay, thanks for letting me know" he sighed, looking around, for what I suspect were his friends. He ruffled his hair with his hand, and leaned against a tree surrounding the schoolyard. He looked up, his eyes listless in the inevitably broken atmosphere.

I stayed planted to the ground, my heart throbbing with an ache I wasn't accustomed to.  
Had I just denied Tomoeda Academy's heartthrob?

He's not the one for you, Sakura, and you know it, so stop being so stubborn, sheesh!

"Watanabe-san, I-I'm sorry, it's not like I knew or anything, I just –"my rambling lips felt the firm and delicate hold of Shouta's index finger.  
I looked up at his face, my eyes startled.

His gently shaped face returned to the warm and polite gestures I knew of, his eyes gleaming in an understanding manner and his lips forming a lopsided smile.

"It's alright, don't worry about it" he said, tilting his head to the side and blowing his dark bangs from his forehead.

I casted my looks towards the ground while my eyes were shielded by a shy barrier. When did all these feelings decide to barge in? Before anyone mattered, before Shouta paid any real attention to me, before Syaoran acknowledged my existence (informally), everything felt concrete, everything felt controlled.

The silence commenced a night of supposed inconvenient circumstances.  
If Syaoran had never let his sun-kissed face brighten my life, then Shouta and I…

No, all these thoughts were silly, ridiculous, besides, I didn't care. Only when I didn't care did I realize reality could be very magical. Because when I didn't care, Shouta didn't exist; his face became a dumbfounded blur amongst the incoherencies of adolescence. And when I didn't care, when my guards were let down…Syaoran waltzed in, parading around my heart, and I barely knew of it.

"Say, Kinomoto-san, can I call you Sakura?"

The abrupt request brought me back into everything I couldn't avoid.

"Of course, but only if I can call you Shouta" I smiled at him, knowing the polite atmosphere had returned, and if I kept up with it, my situation would be back to normal where Shouta was concerned.

"That would be great, I can't allow you to call Syaoran by his name without calling me by my own" he said and held his hand out for me to shake, and I did so, sensing the electric feel of permanent friendship through his palm. I laughed a little at the petty competition his words contained.

We walked back towards the more occupied areas of the festival, parting ways when the lights finally illuminated our opposing paths.  
He turned his head, and over his shoulder told me,"Spare my feelings by just letting me down gently the first time, 'kay?" he stuck his tongue out at me cheekily, and it was then when I realized the long-term crush on Tomoeda's resident pretty boy connected a great deal to all those bishonen characters my childhood dreams preserved.

I laughed as he continued on his way towards his friends. My eyes glanced at the auditorium and caught the sight of Syaoran Li, presumed average student. But I think you're so much more, so much greater, than any pretty boy I could come across.

He looked around almost immediately after having met visually, a nervous attempt, it seemed.

Gathering every speck of confidence, I announced a journey forth the messy headed dream of mine.

* * *

"Damn it, Eriol, why the hell are they still together!" I thrashed the poor chap around, my grip on his shoulders digging a hole nearly as deep as the sight of Sakura together, _happily_, with Shouta had begun to excavate in my hopes.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, Syaoran!" he whined once more under the physical abuse of my temper.  
It was a damned thing, this displeasure of mine, grabbing a hold (literally) of everything and taking advantage of my able body.  
Although it's quite the common Li trait, it also appears in the unlikeliest of situations.

I sighed; massaged my temple, and realized Sakura had unknowingly intoxicated me.

She's just pretty…_well, the prettiest._

She's just smart..._well, the smartest._

But I like her because there's more beyond her spring-colored eyes.

"Why am I still not important to her?" I grumbled, my lips nearly pouting…as manly as that was.  
Come to think of it, I've never had to chase a girl. I may not have had Shouta's delicately handsome looks, but I knew I had my own appeal, and girls noted that. Naoko knew of my _perceptive sensibility, and that's why I like you, Syaoran_. Misaki giggled effortlessly whenever I said something _super funny, Syaoran, ha ha ha, you're just adorable! _Rika, she knew how _thoughtful of you, oh my God, you shouldn't have, Syaoran. _Three girls had witnessed my intellect, charm and attention to detail.

Why aren't you paying attention, Sakura?

"Syaoran!"

Both Eriol and I looked towards the light voice calling for me in the crowd of joyous spectators.  
Needless to say, the two of us remained surprised at the very own lips the voice emitted from.

"Here's your chance, go make yourself important!" Eriol shoved me out of the crowd and into Sakura.

She rested amongst the background of people; she was animated and colored, everyone else paled in gray tones, hazy in the clumsy precision my mind outlined Sakura with. I just couldn't stay mad at her.

"I see things went well with Watanabe, bet that's why you're all smiley, hmm?"  
I was sure she wouldn't notice even a hint of severity in my tired voice.

She blinked and looked around, "Well, do you see him around?"

I felt puzzled, and realized, oh hey, Sakura's on her own with _you_…well, aren't you lucky.

"Ah, so...you patched up things with him?" I didn't know what to say, seriously.

She looked at her thoughts then replied, with careful consideration,  
"I don't really think there was anything to patch up, exactly…but, we're fine, friends again"

"When weren't you?" I ask, a little bitter that she can just resume any matter with him.

"I think…for a split second, we couldn't have been" and why hadn't that split second occurred? Jeez.

I nodded at her and motioned my head forth the auditorium stage.  
She looked towards the stage and noticed the open-mic session had begun. I had a knowing smile on my face displayed just for her.

"Oh, no, no, definitely not!" she protested, firmly placing her hands at her sides, as if such a stance could really express her obstinate refusal.

"Oh, yes, yes, definitely yes, you are Sakura" I laughed, pushing her towards the line. She blushed at our contact or at the proximity of the stage, or maybe even at the audience we had gained. Amongst those appeared the one girl who could easily rescue Sakura Kinomoto.

"Sakura, there you are!"

Tomoyo Daidouji, member of the student council, aspiring fashion designer, daughter of Piffle Toy Company CEO, and Tomoeda Academy's very own audaciously outspoken perfectionist stormed in, closely followed by Takashi.

Do they necessarily come in packs? The student council always appears together, no matter the occasion, if there's one member around, another is bound to show up. Maybe Sakura and Shouta had always spent time together…maybe I only noticed when it really bothered me...whatever.

"Ah, Tomoyo, Takashi" Sakura nervously laughed, the reason behind her nerves passed me.

"We've been looking all over for you, one of the students needed you to fill in her spot at the booth"  
Tomoyo grumbled in rather agitated tones, they were tones I hadn't been close friends with her to have known beforehand.

You see, past Sakura's exactness, roared Tomoyo Daidouji's immense sense of responsibility for immaculate perfection. She dominated every single club that managed to fit her in, because everyone knew if you were friends with Tomoyo, you were friends with someone important. If you were friends with someone important, by connections, you were friends with Sakura Kinomoto, Tomoyo Daidouji, Shouta Watanabe, Takashi Yamazaki, Noga Aoyama, and Natsumi Ichinose: essentially, the voice and sparkles of Tomoeda Academy. Now, if you were a representative, you were pretty important.

"I'm really sorry, Tomoyo, I was just – "

"Oh, Syaoran, I see you found Sakura, seriously, this kid was looking everywhere for you!" Takashi wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and immediately after I smacked the back of his head. This good friend of mine, much like Eriol, was a dirty bastard.

My mind doesn't entirely grasp how and why Takashi's as popular as he is. Although, being the good and loyal friend since elementary has shown me the glimpses of Takashi Yamazaki's flamboyant power, I still see the pasty little tattler he was in the first grade.

Tomoyo giggled and leaned on Sakura's shoulder, "Neh, Sakura, if this is why you wanted a break…well"

Sakura blushed at the provocative thoughts Tomoyo hurdled with her simple, albeit suggestive, words.  
She shook her flushed head and mumbled, "Ugh, that's not it"

Tomoyo finally looked at me, conspicuously studying my face, as she stood nearly a few inches far from me. She leaned in closely, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in an ambiguous form. I felt myself stiffen, as if under the hard watch of a captain in careful inspection of another lazy mate.

"Why have we not spoken, ever?" she asked in a flat voice, if any true curiosity lived in her, not even the remains of it were spared for me.

"I…I think we have"

She thought about my answer and perhaps realized the one of the few times we had ever had any verbal communication.

_"UGH, LI, YOU'RE DOING IT ALL WRONG, IT'S LIKE THIS!"  
a small onyx haired girl yelled, as she pranced around with a hand on her hip and the other palm delicately stretched out._

_Her eyes burned with impatience, but she was the one who had suggested a student runway modeling show for the third grade talent show. Her male "models" had frustrated her to no end, especially the one with the bed head. Tomoyo had vehemently demonstrated the appropriate catwalk in accordance to her desires, and here was a careless boy, Syaoran Li, ruining everything she nearly perfected. _

"_I look gay" was his mumbled response. _

"_UGHHHH, ALRIGHT, EVERYONE, FROM THE BEGINNING, A-FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT!" _

"You nearly killed two weekends of diligent perfection" Tomoyo glared her eyes at me.

I lifted an eyebrow, "You nearly made me walk in high heels"

Sakura laughed, a laugh pronouncing a blissful festivity of childhood memories.  
She smiled at me and said, "I think that was my fault…I strongly refused to wear them, so she kind of needed a replacement"  
A sheepish, 'I'm sorry I almost ruined and humiliated your third grade year' look crossed her lovely face, and I smiled back.

Tomoyo and Takashi caught on; of course, these two were no Kinomoto case. Takashi harshly slapped my back and winked me a congratulations. I'm afraid it's too early though, because at this point, I fear Sakura's intentions aren't as deep as I would like them to be, where I'm concerned.

"Anyway, Sakura…there's an open-mic" Tomoyo spoke the last few words in a sneaky manner, determination a factor in her eyes.  
The girl was almost as filthy and possessive as Eriol.

Sakura prepared the same look she had when I suggested the very brilliant thought.

"That's right; you should go up, seriously!" Takashi joined in the persuasion, although far more roughly, as he pushed Sakura all the more closer to the stage, where the line for performers seemed to have shortened significantly.

Currently, Noga Aoyama held the audience with every noble note he imprinted on them. It was, undoubtedly, a part of his graceful charm. He was the stoic boy with deep, inhibited feelings that no one dared to venture into, even if you could guess his entire persona. How the hell is that appealing?

Sakura looked warily at our faces, searching for a confirmation she desperately needed.

"Do it, maybe you can dedicate a song to someone special" a sudden, familiar voice penetrated our socially unusual circle.  
I felt Eriol nudge my sides, and throw his glances at me…that bastard.

Regardless of his intentions, Sakura blushed and looked for my eyes.

"You think I should?"

I couldn't feel the ground for the love of anything, had she really just directly asked me?  
Amidst the friends she could lean on, the permission or reassurance lay at my feet. I was hesitant.

"Definitely" but I gave her a smile of promise. I'll promise you the world if you promise me a song.  
But she knew nothing of this, as far as she's concerned we're friends, _duh_.

Her head nodded, as she went up next in line. Noga exited the stage to an uproar of newborn fans, his acoustic guitar clutched in his hands. Sakura grabbed his arm before passing by her and asked him something we couldn't hear. He agreed even before she could finish her request and smiled adoringly at her. What made me think I had no external forces to worry about where Sakura mattered?

When the crowd settled down, Sakura and Noga graced the stage. But as soon as that occurred, more cheering ensued, girls squealed at the delightful pair performing together, and suddenly, all the attention sprawled about the fall festival fell in silent respect. It was only for the prettiest girl and "coolest" guy in Tomoeda Academy, right.

"How's everybody doing tonight?" Sakura cheerfully asked with an enthusiasm that suited a very own pop star.  
The audience applauded and replied right back nearly with the same enthusiasm. Sakura laughed lightly and said,  
"This is a little song we're going to cover, I hope you all enjoy it"

The crowd fell into a trance, ears were meant for listening and hearts were meant for feeling at this hour.

She fidgeted with her wavy hair, the same nervousness I had seen before with me. She's so cute.

Her eyes looked into the sea and found my own, when Noga's guitar playing began, I felt the blush creep upon my face, but beyond that, I felt Sakura creep into my heart. Her eyes didn't leave mine, I couldn't leave hers.

Her lips sounded out the lyrics deftly, eyes shaping into the meaning of her words; a softness I hadn't discovered revealed the extent of beauty Sakura Kinomoto possessed.

"I used to know you when we were young…~"

I reached into my pocket and retrieved the crumpled paper Sakura had given to me.  
With the feel of her words in my hand and the sound of her sweet voice stirring my mind…I want to let her know.

"You were in all my dreams~"

Because there's a particular point in life where dreams intersect reality, there has to be.

* * *

Alright, so there wasn't much Sakura/Syaoran interaction here, if anything, Sakura's had time to realize more things…I hope I made that a little clear, heh. So, yeah, SHE LIKES SYAORAN. As for Shouta…don't think this is his last interference, oh, no, no, no, there's plenty where that came from ;)

Next chapter will include more of that Milan trip. And I know I say this for every chapter, but I don't like this chapter XD…I just think it's a collective dislike for every chapter and with each new chapter, the dislike just accumulates…bah. Oh well, please tell me what you think, because trust me, my writing has gotten very lazy. Thank you for reading, though!


	6. Polar Opposites

A million apologies for complaining the way I did in the previous chapter._.  
Whining is a terrible thing to do, and it was completely uncalled for, really, the reviews I have been receiving are just fantastic. I couldn't do it without any of them. If I could send out chocolates to all of you, I totally would. Even if you're somewhere in France ;D lol. Unless you're allergic to chocolate…this is another tragedy in itself, one that I won't address right now. Again, thank you so much for all the reviews I received for the last chapter, they may have been partially fueled by my pointless complaints, but they really made my heart smile ^-^!

Now…I will make mention of a certain reviewer who, shame on me, I have not even personally thanked. Yes…I'm talking to you; yes YOU, I-wish-I-wasn't-tone-deaf. You've stuck around since chapter one, I think lol. But anyway, your reviews are always so thought out in wonderful detail, just the kind anyone would like to hear/read. I _adore_ how you insert little excerpts from my story too, makes me feel like a real author x3 eh-heh. And to see that you've found a section in which you can relate to…well, I feel like I've done part of my job! Because, really, I want people to realize that just because its fiction, doesn't mean its ALL fiction…make sense? Ah well, I'm really glad my UIL literary criticism practice has been of use, I've been working out some of my literary devices from the meets ^0^. As for Kimi Ni Todoke, I LOVE IT! During their whole confessional stage, I was so frustrated though, I was just thinking, "HE LIKES YOU, STOP TWISTING HIS WORDS, GRAH!" :3 I've read up to the part where Kazehaya meets her dad, I haven't kept up much, and the anime, I haven't seen a thing but the first episode, manga for me! Holy Jesus, a whole paragraph just for you, I'm sorry if it's too much XD I hadn't realized lol.

And btw…I had suuuch a silly crush on Kazehaya that I decided to name the "perfect" male character in _Simple Things_ after him. BUT ANYWAY: I LOVE ALL OF YOU! Or not…if that's creepy ha-ha.

Okay, I'm tired, so here is chapter six, enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

* * *

Time never slowed down for me. You don't savor in those moments of bouncing all about the place role playing Dragon Ball Z as much as you remember doing so. And then you don't even care that you can't remember the little fragments that mattered. All those little particles my childhood designed, every inch of architecture is condensed, essentially, crumbled to dust and pieces that don't mean anything, unless you want them to. That's what I remember. Increasing arguments with Eriol over who would get to fight as Goku, because back then (believe it or not), Goku was at his prime. Back then, we all desired that prime position, feeling important and not knowing why. You just knew, hell, if I'm important people look at me, listen to me, they know I exist. The need to exist mattered more than my own existence back then. And honestly, I can't remember another time in my life where I wanted to exist more than ever.

Especially not now, running onto the pavement of Tomoeda's downtown, under the exact adrenaline the elementary kid I used to know felt. On any other occasion, I wouldn't have cared. But considering that mother had urgently called about eleven times for my _existence_ in the Amamiya Publishing Company offices, and that I was about twenty minutes late, I had to reach back to a more charismatic time, and race like I remember wanting to exist.

I arrive at the glass doors and without hesitation, reached for my entrance.  
The front desk along with the lobby were the first to greet me, the concierge looked from her desk with a baffled expression.

"U-Um, sir!" she called after my retreating back, maybe I could have consulted with her.  
Of course, this maybe would have been necessary if I were on time.

"Sorry!" I yelled back, hoping the wary look on her face did not concern security.

I noticed the elevator doors closing and yelled because I had to, "Hold on!"

My voice recovered in pants upon safely entering the elevator, reminding myself to thank whoever it was that held the doors for me. But I wished I didn't have to.

"T-Thanks…" I looked up after a second of fully regaining my calm. I really wish I didn't have to.

He leaned back against the bar handle of the elevator, headphones dripping from his ears, his hands elegantly kept in his jeans.  
His dark hair fit for his shapely, ivory face, long and layered, like every Japanese girl I knew had in mind.

"Anytime" Shouta replied composedly, there wasn't a flinch in his body that I could capture.

Really, out of all people, why Shouta? I don't want to thank him for anything.  
I know events concerning people make other people the people they become in your life, but I refused to believe Shouta had any particular contribution to Sakura appreciating my existence.  
So fuck you, fate…and you too, Shouta.

We didn't spare a word. His body remained in the exact pose I first glanced at, the music tampering with his mind accumulated effect as he bobbed his head along. I heard notes and guitars, a bass and a muffled voice, the beat felt too familiar, so my face couldn't help it. My eyes were concentrated on figuring out what he was listening to, my lips mouthing words I could have possibly inserted with the dampened tune. I could have been a little too obvious.

"Modest Mouse" because he noticed.

"Hm…" I nodded, shrinking under the possibility that we had another common interest, because not many people I appreciated understood the magnitude of Modest Mouse, and to find said pretty boy bobbing his perfect hair to some of the best sounds alive irritated me.

Not another discovery was made, because he stood bobbing his head, every now and then whispering or mumbling a lyric, and making sure the space between us remained occupied with silence.  
Of course, I was doing the same, only I had nothing making me look cool.

But we didn't have to say a thing. The elevator came to a sudden halt on the twenty-third floor, the small ding alarming me of the sudden realization that Shouta stood next to me in the same building on a Sunday morning. Again, why was he at the Amamiya Publishing offices? It's one thing to bump into a classmate at the supermarket, another to make small talk after running into each other at the bus station because summer allowed a brief vacation, but here?  
What the hell, God damn it, piss off Shouta.

Things always get better, because nothing stays shitty for long, we all know this, I know we've all been there.  
But apparently things weren't entirely shit yet, because they got worse.

We stepped on to the forty-third floor _together _and it was then when Mr. Pretty Boy (with caps) had the brilliant idea of acknowledging my unusual appearance along his side.

"So, uh, Li, another coincidence we're both getting off on the same floor?" his lightly colored eyes blinked at the inconvenience of my presence, whatever the hell he found inconvenient that I didn't.

"I guess" I shrugged, feigning a realistic yawn. I wasn't all that rude.

But maybe I was acting too childish, truth be told, I really wanted to know_ why_ the two of us had to be at the exact same building, at the exact same time, on the exact same floor.  
Two words couldn't possible have compassed everything.

"…seriously, what are you doing here?" there was a rude infliction upon his words, I chose to ignore it because that's all I ever tried to do with Shouta Watanabe, ignore him.

The honey Sakura had babbled so much about every morning in literature class appeared in his eyes. Personally, it was a first encounter.

"My mom's getting published…" what more did he need to know? Though, while my destination loomed into sight, the further his steps continued with my own.  
Our steps knew of things we couldn't say.

Impulsivity never boded well with me; neither did Shouta's abrupt halt at the door I had previously planned on entering.  
The look we exchanged announced about the same statement. _What the fuck_.

"This has to be a joke" he scoffed, and I couldn't tell whether he intended humor or fist-face interaction. But once more, he glanced at my face and smirked.  
The boy didn't have a care in the world. Not one manifested in his steamy honey lavished eyes.

I gave him a smile of sarcasm, grabbing a hold of the door handle, and entering what I presumed to be hell.  
But in any case…hell seemed too lovely with every ounce Sakura Kinomoto radiated through her impatient countenance awaiting our arrival. Not so much with Touya's though.

"You're late, the two of you" Touya grumbled, tapping his foot, his arms crossed against his chest as he stood from his seat next to the very own Fujitaka. Their resemblance remained staggering; regardless of how many times I had seen them next to each other. The truth in their eyes was greater than any other truth I could remotely consider valid. The Kinomoto eyes were justly intense.

"I'm sorry, it's just – "the sincerity in my apology hid behind the walls of gruff tones, or on any other day, soon to be apology.

"Please excuse our tardiness; although there is no reason for it, I apologize sincerely on both our behalves"

_Son of a bitch._ Who the hell gave you permission to apologize for me? And did I ask you to bow on my behalf? What's with that smile? Will things really patch up just because you flash them one of your Shouta Watanabe smiles, that same damn smile that caresses the hormones of girls at our school, sending them crazy because you're smiling _at them_? Really, Shouta, you don't smile at anyone, you smile at your own damn self, don't you? Because you're just fucking great.

But he had Touya wrapped around his little finger.

"Oh, I see, very well then, please take a seat" his spoke in nearly one cough, sitting back down.

The table estimated about seven chairs, three on each side and one at the edge, respectably, reserved for Fujitaka…well, reserved if I had been on time, that is. Sakura sat next to Touya, who sat opposite of mother, while a tall, regal man of middle-aged certainty sat next to her. His jagged eyes contrasted boldly with Shouta's warm ones, but he deemed that dark set of hair, full for his age, and that same fashioned nose, elegant and curved. Once more, genes could not lie, and I had the familiar feeling of when I first gazed upon Touya and Fujitaka. Can beauty even breathe when suffocated by its own? Seriously, anyone else, any male super models about to burst in from an ad, maybe Fabio would like to sit in my spot, oh, let's say, Jesus? Inevitably, I found a tiny piece of me I seemed to have forgotten in junior high, insecurity. Bah.

"Pardon me" Shouta politely said as he walked ahead of me and took the seat next to his father, who I assumed was, anyway. I looked at the table and believed luck, or God, still had some faith in my day. Sakura smiled at my stiffened position, not realizing the very reason may have been her pretty eyes or her pretty smile. But I took the seat because there was no other.

"Gentlemen, as we were discussing _earlier_, the trip will consist of roughly two weeks, that includes Milan, London, Madrid, and Glasgow. Amamiya Publishing seems to have a high success rate in Europe more so than we imagined, so strategically, if we begin promotion through there, we hit London. Now, the BBC has offered us a small film upon reading a few of Yelan Li's chapters, think about it, if the film is well-received, our popularity would spread more towards North America, therefore – "

"Ahem" Fujitaka spoke, after droning vowels from Touya's, albeit professionally done, recap of what we had apparently missed. For the first time a look of sheepish embarrassment casted Touya's gentleman-like features. He sat back down and allowed Fujitaka the rest of the time.

"Yelan, by _our_ popularity, by all means, Touya is referring to _your_ popularity" he smiled kindly at mother, remembering to approach all clients and authors with the equal rewarding and respect his father had probably drilled into him. That's what I can imagine, anyway.

He paced about the room; the conference office looked considerably insignificant for a man of his disposition. Anyone could look at Fujitaka and tell you he belonged in a high and mighty corporation crushing irrelevant matters, matters involving people, people with dreams. In any occasion, anyone could tell you Fujitaka should be crushing dream, not waiting for them. But I couldn't let the conference room fool me. Sakura had mentioned, and anyone could've mentioned, that the main Amamiya Publishing Offices resided in Tokyo, where her grandfather held the position of CEO, simply waiting for his son-in-law.

"Watanabe-san, my son brought up a very important matter, about the BBC contract, of course, we need a translator, an apt one at that" Fujitaka glanced at the other middle-aged man of substantial importance. _Watanabe-san_ oh was I ever right.

The older Watanabe nodded politely, and allowed the same damn smirk Shouta had been given.

"Of course, I've spoken to Mr. Grant himself recently; we've reached a date regarding a meeting soon"

Fujitaka nodded gratefully, understanding the father of Shouta for nothing less than he truly was. A translator of prestige and considerable wit, like father…like son.

I felt uncomfortable, as Fujitaka had managed to crawl boredom under my skin once more with the bitter speak of businessmen.  
My mother sat nearly as regal as the two older men, but in no way amounted to their admirable nature (maybe because I knew she was my mother).

Shouta mimicked his father in nearly every angle.  
When Watanabe smirked, Shouta smirked, when Watanabe nodded, Shouta expressed conformity, when Watanabe spoke in clever remarks, Shouta intended them as his own for later use.  
Like father, like son.

It was only when I forgot Fujitaka's voice that it all dawned upon me.

I knew why Shouta was here. I knew he couldn't be left alone, we couldn't be left alone.  
Of course, any ordinary child would protest at the idea of spending two weeks crammed with their parents, but when this opportunity concerned a trip to Europe, who cared?

Things were falling apart for me. I felt the ladder I constructed shake and tumble by the hands of Shouta Watanabe, a shake seized by perfection.  
The wall I had attempted to climb became bigger and bigger, and Sakura began to disappear behind it once more.

I planned on spending two weeks traveling Europe alongside Sakura Kinomoto. Not knowing what beauty to admire first, for two whole weeks.  
Two weeks of laughter and teasing, sightseeing and people watching, a cultural rendition through the eyes of Sakura Kinomoto and Syaoran Li.

I didn't plan on some prick translator and his pompous son to tag-along.  
I didn't expect our people watching to be interrupted by some _clever_ and useful statement Shouta had to impress Sakura with.

I didn't plan keeping these damn feelings in for another two weeks.  
But I sure as hell hoped Shouta did.

* * *

"This is going to be so much fun; it'll be just like a mini-class field trip!" I squealed at the announcement of our new companion. Shouta smiled politely, possibly forgotten all about the semi-confessional/interest he had made light of just two days ago. I hadn't spoken a word of it, and neither had he, but we were speaking many other words, and that's all that mattered.

The meeting had ended about an hour ago; all the "grown-ups" resumed their grown-up lives and had completely abandoned three adolescents. I think most businessmen work this way.

I glanced from my seat to the boy I recently grew into. His lean body stood at the register, making an order for our sweet tooth's indulgence. He was never this pretty to me.  
I can remember sitting in front of him for years and never considering his features.

It's when you look closely, that's what I realized. You look very carefully and you think goodness…_Syaoran Li is attractive_. He's got a more reserved appeal, probably granted only for thoughtful eyes, sympathetic lips, and a profound heart. I think he's a boy certain hearts speak of; something a Bright Eyes song could have stitched together. He's got these pensive eyes; they burn into your own and kind of…let you know exactly what he's feeling. It's a little hard not to stare.

"Sakura-chan likes Syaoran-kun" a teasing announcement reminded me of the other beauty by my side.  
A childhood beauty I regarded with admiration and occasional swooning during sophomore year P.E.

Shouta had a different appeal, a bold appeal. Anyone could see it. I suppose that's what made it a little less special, you know, it killed everything after a while.  
Nevertheless, Shouta still claimed his charming ways at any opportunity he had, even when it was subconsciously.

"Shouta!" I mumbled, pinching his arm. He hissed and rubbed his delicate arm.  
I never felt this at ease with him.

But the ease began to suffocate under the weight of unnecessary sentiments, and for once, I don't think they were my own.  
Shouta leaned his chin into his hands and tilted his head to the side, observing Syaoran with discretely incredulous eyes.

"I don't get it" he sighed, grumbling disjointed adjectives into his palm.

Curiosity covered my face as I peeked into Shouta's bewilderment.

"Get what..?" I was a little afraid to ask him something so bluntly, because I was very afraid I knew what he meant.

Feelings do that to you, it's frightening how one day you wake up feeling a sensation creeping up your spine because you know someone not like you at all exists. But you want them to exist, and you're glad they do. You're happy they know you exist, and more than that, you're happy you exist in their life, not just to the world. It's a very sound idea. It's like someone cut open your chest and installed a tiny camera right next to your heart, so you can see everything. You can feel everything.

I really hope Syaoran feels everything.

"Why you like him" this time, Shouta didn't even bother disguising his disappointment. He had completely leaned his head on one hand, holding all his thoughts with his left hand.  
I, for one, knew he was right-handed.

Syaoran was still in line, but had finally gotten all our orders. He didn't struggle, or it didn't look like he was struggling.  
Then again, Syaoran never looks like anything at all; at least he never looked like anything at all.

Right before Syaoran arrived at our table, I took the opportunity to glance at Shouta. He looked bothered and disgruntled, narrowing his eyes away from my presence. I didn't like feeling like I couldn't do a thing to fix this, to control all those thoughts brewing in his mind, for once; I couldn't do a single thing to control the situation. The burning sensation my palms felt were no coincidence.  
I was still out of my element.

"White chocolate mocha" Syaoran's voice rang in our atmosphere, as he handed me my drink.

"Right here" I softly spoke receiving the warm beverage gratefully.

"Soy strawberries and crème…huh, a little unexpected" Syaoran mumbled the last part, as he gave Shouta his rather sensitive order.

"I need the pick-me-up" Shouta commented, grinning, claiming back his proper throne once more.

Syaoran smirked, perhaps forgetting the uneven tension we had experienced earlier.  
"_You_ need to be picked up?" the disbelief Syaoran's question presented spoke valiantly.

I bit my lower lip, inching slowly from a potential argument.  
But maybe that's because I'm a girl, and on certain days (mostly unfortunate days), a very petty girl.

But nothing ever hit me. Nothing ever hit our atmosphere, minus Shouta's sincere laughter.

"I figured you out of all people would know exactly how this works, Li" he finally replied. His laughter had, unintentionally, lifted everything.  
I suppose Shouta's just that kind of boy.

Syaoran arched an eyebrow and concealed his growing smirk, or tried.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I couldn't help it,  
"You're a bundle of teenage broodiness, Syaoran, you portray angst and apathy much too well" I giggled, taking a small sip of my _Caution: Extremely Hot Beverage_.

Shouta laughed, high-fived me, and declared his victory against Syaoran for that moment.

It seemed he was outnumbered, because two very polished debate team members had him cornered under the very own speculation the majority of the student body had presumed over the semi-antisocial Syaoran Li. He looked like he worked well under melancholy. But who are we to judge?

Syaoran rolled his eyes and snorted, "Well, on behalf of my behavior, I would like to sincerely apologize for my cold demeanor, you see, as a child, well, my favorite show was Barney…it was inevitable"

Shouta and I laughed loudly, disrupting a bit of the casual quietness decorating the café we found just a few blocks down the Amamiya offices.  
Quaint in all its modesty, it could not restrict us to hushed voices passionately discussing Keats. At this point, nothing could.

"A-Apology accepted" I giggled, covering my laughing lips.  
Shouta's tension had seemed to dissipate, along with the thick atmosphere I managed to melt between the boys.  
Why weren't people always this way?

We simultaneously sighed, sinking into the cushions our rustic chairs provided, not really allowing anything else to be spoken, but also, not really caring.  
I didn't know how this would last.

The moment ended with the startling meowing invading my purse. I searched every flap and pocket my purse suddenly had, until I finally found the pastel contraption.

"'Moyo?"

"Sakura, how could you, it's Sunday, where the heck are you?" I nearly felt the faux-tears Tomoyo desperately tried to convey realistically.

But it felt like a well-deserved face-palm, reminding me of a very dear girl.

"Oh my gosh, Moyo-chan, I am so sorry, I'll be there in a second!" I apologized knowing Sundays were, regardless of whatever inconvenience, Super Sakura and Tomoyo Sundays  
(I tried convincing Tomoyo into leaving it as Super Sakura Sundays to make it catchier).

"No! We'll have to speak to the Best Friends Committee over this…this heinous violation!" she feigned another sob, at least I hoped.  
However graceful Tomoyo presented herself to be, I also knew of a dramatic trait sealed within her.

"Honey, I'll be _right_ there, bye!" I ended the call and immediately stood up from my seat.

The boys looked up at my hasty behavior. Syaoran asked, "What happened?"

I looked into my bag searching for my wallet and answered with clear severity,  
"Just Tomoyo, I need to hurry before she consults the Best Friends Committee"

"Uh, is this some club at school?" Shouta looked up, eyes questioning the new words.

I looked from my purse to both of the boys, capturing their eyes carefully before speaking.  
"Erm no, it consists of Tomoyo and her cat…but mostly Tomoyo" I mumbled, searching for my wallet once more.

The boys nodded and Syaoran said, "Sounds dangerous"

As I found my purse, I collected the bills I owed and placed them on the table, "You have no idea".

Instantly, two hands reached for the money and clashed firmly.  
Shouta and Syaoran's eyes initiated an unsaid staring contest, neither of their hands moving from the bills, only silence delegated their synchronized actions.

"Igotit'sonme" was what I heard, but I think they might have meant…

_Syaoran_: I got it  
_Shouta_: It's on me

My eyes were wide with embarrassment, my cheeks flushed with gratitude, but I couldn't accept.  
I shouldn't accept, what would that make me anyway? Some stumbling heroine idling in the hands of boys from some shoujo adventure, wasn't I a little more deserving than that?

"You guys…its fine, I couldn't do that" I smiled weakly, glancing anywhere but at them.

Neither of them spoke, and I certainly could not decipher a single thought processed.

I sighed, regretting what I was about to do, but spoke for the sake of Tomoyo.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

* * *

"Is this a date?"

I lifted my head up at the dark haired boy in front of me. We sat at a bookstore right next to the café Sakura had mercilessly abandoned the two of us in.  
My eyes laid on the ridiculous question Shouta presented.

Before I could reply, my stomach grumbled in the confined limitations concerning its nutrition.

"Yes, now buy me dinner" I replied, laying my head back into the ignored book I originally intended on exploring. I reached into my pocket and found the piece of paper Sakura had given to me at the festival. It was a list of books she _highly _recommended. So it wasn't a love confession, I had convinced all the wishful thinking out of that sticky situation. But it was a thoughtful note, indirectly sharing another slice of her life with me.

Shouta's eyes declared boredom and absolute incredibility at our current situation. A rare occasion began to unfold before the two of us.  
Two people, with seemingly no interest in one another, sharing a very dawdling Sunday without an excuse to permit an _otherwise_, yet words were still being exchanged.

"What are you pretending to read?" Shouta disregarded my absurd demand and tried to look beyond my hovering head for any indication of the book's title.

I moved only a bit, not having displayed but the first word, and he answered his own question.

"_Everything is Illuminated_, not bad" he nodded slowly, simply having indentified the title by the sharp blue and yellow cover. Seriously, Sakura and he really are two of a kind. A little like soul mates even. I don't even know where they've found a time or matter to disagree upon. My insides felt a little tight, compressed under the uninvited insecurities that began to surface once more.  
Soul mates? Like I said, fuck you fate.

"You?" I asked, too tired to add any other words, however simple it may be.

He lifted his book in clear sight. The title crushed me further into wallowing pessimism, a tolerant realm for selfish consideration.

_Never Let Me Go. _

I looked down at the note, maybe I had been mistaken.  
1. _Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut  
_2. _Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (If you're into good books, you are now into decent pedophilia)  
_3. _Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro  
_4. _A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess (I think you'll like this one the most, you big weirdo)  
_5. _Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer (knowing you, you'll probably complain about all the historical inaccuracies -.-')_

Is there anything for me to do with Sakura? Her spring eyes nearly spoke upon the mention of literature, that girl, she's going places. Shouta and Sakura. Sakura and Shouta. I can't find a syllable aching for a separation. I can't find anything between Sakura and me, not as much as I can find between Sakura and Shouta. I felt a slight pang reverberate somewhere in my chest. These are little things, little things that used to mean so much to me, like role-playing Dragon Ball Z, like wanting, _needing_ to exist. Little things that don't matter anymore, unless I wanted them to.

I looked once more at Shouta and wasn't sure where all my hatred went. I remember grasping feverishly for it this morning, without a care to stop me, and now things are falling apart. Sakura is still here, everyone is still here. The architecture in my bones and in my mind began to deteriorate. Reality intervenes, Shouta intervened. More so now than ever, because now I'm realizing he's a boy in love…a little like me. There wasn't anything else that frustrated me more today.

"You know, just because we're being civil doesn't mean I'm giving up"

I didn't bother looking up. I didn't bother reminding myself that he's got wonderful hair and a handsome face. I didn't bother reminding myself that he's reading one of Sakura's favorite books. I didn't bother thinking that he'll make a wealthy engineer just like he announced he would in junior high. I didn't know if I had finally convinced myself.

"That doesn't matter" I replied, still harnessing bits of the previous bravery I had clumsily managed.

Looking at the cover, I found my fingers working their way into the contents.

_An Overture To The Commencement Of A Very Rigid Journey  
_

_

* * *

_

Chapter six is complete, and okay, I'm not about to brag, but this is probably the chapter I've enjoyed writing the most. I'm not sure if I conveyed everything I felt while writing it out, because for some reason, I…felt a whole lot lol. It may also be because I've been a terribly moody mess since the beginning of the new year, it might be stress too. Or, maybe, because I tried, really hard btw, to capture Syaoran in a very vulnerable and insecure moment, as opposed to the braver and less hesitant Syaoran. Did that happen?

Well, I'm not sure if anyone's noticed, but the chapters titles have all, save for the first one, been named after songs. They were songs that I was either listening to or had stuck in my mind for the day. The title of this chapter (again a song title), also deals a bit more with the actual content of the chapter in more detail. For example, Syaoran always thought himself to be a polar opposite of Shouta, but towards the end he starts realizing that they probably are more alike than he would like to admit. Also, between Sakura and him, he starts realizing that maybe they're the ones who are polar opposites, as he starts noticing how alike Sakura and Shouta really are. Sorry for going on about this, it's just a little idea that popped into my head while listening to the song.

And because I have to give rightful credit to the titles of the chapter:

Chapter 2: I Should Have Known Better by She & Him (cover of The Beatles)  
Chapter 3: I'm happy but you don't like me by Asobi Seksu  
Chapter 4: Don't Run by Broken Toy Airplanes/Sleepyhead (this song really has nothing to do with the chapter itself, I just had it in mine)  
Chapter 5: I Want To by Best Coast (again, actual lyrics nothing to do with chapter)  
Chapter 6: Polar Opposites by Modest Mouse

Another credit I had forgotten to address was in the previous chapter where Sakura covers a song for the fall festival. It's called Hackensack by The Fountains of Wayne.

AND ONE MORE CREDIT…XD

At the end of this chapter, the last italicized words are actually the beginning of _Everything is Illuminated_, but since Syaoran opened the book, it's implied he started reading. Plus, I kind of liked how it fit his situation as well :} so thank you Jonathan Safran Foer! Sorry, I need to start being a little more original or creative lol. But thank you for reading!


	7. When I'm small

Alright, it's been a while since I last updated, so here is chapter seven, please enjoy!

(And btw, Saki-Hime, I'm sorry some of my chapters have been hard to follow the dialogue, I tried making it a bit smoother, and I hope it helps. I just went through this crazy wannabe stream of consciousness writing phase, but I'll definitely try being more considerate! Thank you for pointing it out)

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP and stuff.

Note: I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors in this chapter, it's been a hectic week for me.

* * *

Ever since I was a little girl my momma always told me there'd be boys like you.

"_Sakura, what do you think about boys?" _

_Curious eyes met experienced eyes. They reflected absolutely nothing in significance. Purity at the age of five was hardly significant, because it died with time.  
And it's not that it died all together, it withered until even the foundations were harmed. Nothing is forever. The little girl knew of this._

"_I think they're stupid, they do stupid things, mommy" the tiny voice spoke, responding in five year old sentiments. _

_She was cradled in the arms of a beautiful woman, almost as beautiful as she would be one day. There was a soft beauty in the Amamiya family that could not be shaken.  
You could see this and not doubt it, because it was written in nature that Nadeshiko Kinomoto, once Amamiya, grew in beauty. Her daughter sitting on her lap would know of this too. _

_Nadeshiko laughed at her childish response and said, "You know, don't tell him I know this…but I think Touya's got himself a girlfriend" _

_Sakura jumped out from her mother's warmth nearly flustered at the thought of Touya kissing. _"_But he's only…twelve!" her fingers counted the years. _

_Nadeshiko granted her daughter a warm smile, her hands twirling her back into an embrace. _"_That's almost thirteen, huh" her mother smiled into her hair, leaning her cheek upon her. _

_Sakura looked down at her feet. Her small feet, hardly capable of big steps. She knew things wouldn't stay the same; her mother told her nothing was forever. Sometimes she felt irritated that she couldn't do a thing about time. Time felt like a pesky nuisance, always telling her when to go, when to stop, when to wake up and even when she could close her eyes. She hardly closed her eyes. She knew happiness would only come to those who looked at the world, those who looked _for_ the world. Her innocent eyes couldn't just sit and wait. There was an unspoken severity in the eyes of the five year-old. _

"_Does that mean I'll have a boyfriend when I'm twelve…" her small shoulders nearly trembled at the childish disgrace. _

_Nadeshiko laughed lightly, "I don't think you'll be able to choose from them all" she playful touched her daughter's delicate nose implying truths Sakura could not acknowledge.  
She was five and it was just a number, not a shape or a pretty face, just a mere number growing every single day.  
Sakura wished life could grow slowly. _

"_I don't want a boyfriend…" pink lips mumbled, holding words that could later prove otherwise. _

_Emerald eyes met emerald eyes. Mother and daughter were always together, always hand in hand, always grinning side by side, because Nadeshiko and Sakura could not afford to miss a single heart beat together. Nadeshiko had told Sakura this. _

"_Just wait 'till you're older and prettier, you're going to have boys begging at your feet…I just know it" Nadeshiko sighed into the honey her daughter's hair knew of. She saw herself in Sakura too well, she noticed the way they both were too neat, the way they both crinkled their nose whenever something did not satisfy…she noticed the way she was always unhappy, even when her day called for pastels and smiles. Nadeshiko felt the same way. _

"_I don't want that…" Sakura's voice floated in a whisper, barely reaching Nadeshiko's ears._

_The older woman looked down at the little girl cradled in her lap, her only little girl, the only beautiful thing she remembered adoring with every inch of her tiring soul. And she was in her arms, covering her from the insecurities of the world, all the bad seeds could not get through this shield, she would so often think. _

"_Then what do you want?" Nadeshiko asked her, her voice shaking because this conversation was becoming a routine. _

"_I-I want you to live with m-me forever" tears sparked from the corners of her eyes, her emerald eyes that Nadeshiko would kiss if she could without harm. _

_Sakura began to sob, covering her eyes because she knew it 'hurts mommy to see you like that, honey'. She couldn't hurt her, not when life itself had done enough. She wanted Nadeshiko to be alive when she herself sprung into life, she wanted to embrace her when a real boy broke her real heart, she wanted a world where she could have thrown away all these heavy sentiments because they were not necessary for a simple five year-old. They shouldn't mean a thing to her life. _

_Nadeshiko's ivory arms tightened around Sakura's delicate body, tightening around the weeping heart desperate to wake up. But she knew that Sakura's heart would wake up when her own would sleep. Sakura's life would begin far after her own life would end. And Nadeshiko could do nothing of this, but beg for silly promises, like, 'Promise me you'll be the greatest you can be, and when you are, which you will be, you'll share that greatness with someone else…with someone just as great as you'. But she knew no one could amount to her daughter's greatness. Her fragile heart carried that thought with her. _

_And it was all Nadeshiko could carry, because eventually, Sakura could no longer touch her. _

_

* * *

_The jolt of the unseen speed bump instructed Sakura into reality. Her eyes flew wide open, as she looked around the family car, blinking carefully into the present. Her flashbacks had been molding her dreams that day. It was inescapable; nothing she knew of could free her from the anniversary of her mother's death. No illusion could make her turn away. But she was alright because she hadn't cried. She also knew that a pair of dried eyes could not determine stability.

"Hmm, Touya, how much longer?" the weariness from her sleep invasion was still present in her question.

Touya looked back from the driver's seat, his hands controlling the wheel.

"We…are just about…here!" he responded in stocky tones, seemingly just as tired as Sakura. The two siblings had been driving to Narita Airport, a drive that originally estimated about six hours by car, but had clumsily resulted in seven hours…because neither sibling had any sense of direction. This they could blame their senseless mother for.

Fujitaka had gone ahead of them, explaining of his business arrangements he needed to consult nearly all of Europe with, but had only left their home, not their country. The Kinomoto siblings assumed his father would be impatiently waiting for them, tapping his foot erratically, and checking his watch every other second. Of course, a face he could never show at any meeting. There was a special sensitivity every Kinomoto reserved just for each other, that they had promised one another.

"Dad's going to be so pissed at you, Touya…" Sakura grumbled, as she got out of her makeshift sleeping position in the backseat, and began to empty out the mountains of luggage from the trunk. Her first bag caused her legs to wobble, and she tried to accumulate the same strength she vaguely remembered possessing the first time she even managed to throw it around.

'_People do crazy things when they're excited…' _Sakura thought, as she struggled with her monster-sized luggage.

"He loves me; he'll be pissed at _you_" Touya snottily replied.

"Me? I'm the girl; he has to love me more"

"You're enough of a girl"

Sakura rolled her eyes at his childish retort. But that's all their loving conversations ever consisted of.

It had only been a couple days since their last meeting, and every day following that very last felt like a blank page. One she, for once, did not feel like writing on. Syaoran had ignored her, God knows why, and Shouta had bothered her more than ever, she may have known why. When the cat's away, the mice come out and play. Something like that, right? Well, in any case, Syaoran remained a moody cluster of a cat and Shouta, sneaky as he claimed beauty, pranced around in his Sakura-time mice role.

Sakura intended to ask Syaoran over the reading list. Had he bothered to look in detail? Did it even matter that a bookworm like herself had selfishly shoved her own interests into the hands of a clearly uninterested? Maybe she had Syaoran all wrong…maybe she hadn't meant a thing when her heart suffocated under his strangely alluring presence. Maybe Shouta was for her.

'_No…you've made note of this, we will not go there again' _with the last stubborn thought covered, Sakura hauled as much luggage as she could, while Touya effortlessly carried his two light suitcases with ease. He glanced back at Sakura and grinned for the purpose of their age-old sibling showdown.

"You didn't have to pack each underwear into separate suitcases; I know they need the space but…really" his casual tone could have fooled anyone.  
Sakura glared lazily, she felt too groggy to bother her eyes.

"Ha-ha, funny, _onii-chan_" she sweetly stressed the last word, knowing verbal sibling connections was one of Touya's immense and strange list of pet peeves.

"Shut up" he mumbled, rolling his suitcase backwards until it hit Sakura's foot.  
She hissed lightly and pouted a bit. It never used to be this way.

They finally entered the airport, a bustle of people anxiously awaiting arrivals or certain departures. Sakura never liked airports. They were buildings of recycled air, artificiality at its best. She hated the polar opposite staff that told her what to do, she hated how everyone just floated by one another, completely disregarding the fact that these people were embarking on a journey, or a return, elsewhere. She hated how each soul had so much to say about their destined place, but never did. She hated being so insignificantly poetic when it was clearly uncalled for.

Through the sea of people, an elderly man bumped into her, without a care to his name, and managed to drop her purse (which she had brilliantly left unzipped).  
A few of its contents flew out, sprawled on the floor, amongst those her pink Hello Kitty wallet.

"Ugh, great" she grumbled beneath the chattering of the airport.

"I got it!" Touya immediately kneeled down to retrieve most of her materials, Sakura being Sakura insisted on helping. He didn't bother denying.

The first object Touya grabbed was her wallet, and the first face he saw was of an old stranger's.

Sakura had only two pictures in her wallet. One was of a kneeling Tomoyo proposing, _begging_, Sakura to marry her (because she thought marriage was between two people who got along fairly well, her parents' experience taught her so, anyway). Sakura was smiling, the two of them only six.  
The one behind that one was one he couldn't ignore today.

Nadeshiko's long dark hair curled prettily, addressing her modeling skills she was internationally known for. But the picture wasn't one of professionalism. Her tongue was sticking out and her thumbs poked her cheeks, her fingers stretched childishly. Sakura stood beneath of her, mimicking the exact same pose, both emerald eyes squinted slightly. Touya knew this photograph. He knew how fussy Sakura had been about taking one, so Nadeshiko made the silliest face she could think of, knowing silliness was something Sakura was comfortable with at some point. He also knew that on the back of the photography, in red ink, Nadeshiko had written, '_Love you, my honey-girl!' _

She had always called Sakura that. She was a clever lady, of course, she knew Sakura stood for cherry blossoms. So she figured out the key to making Sakura feel special, extraordinary. Nadeshiko would never call Sakura, 'cherry' or 'cherry blossom'. Those were names _other_ people would figure out. They held absolutely no significance if other people could call her that too easily. She would hate it.

"_Oh, sugar, sugar, oh honey, honey, you are my candy girl~" the lively thirty-six year-old danced on the bed, her little girl dancing along. Nadeshiko and Sakura had their own song every Sunday. _

"_And you've got me…hmm-hmm-hmm!" Sakura clumsily hummed the last words, always forgetting those lyrics. _

"_Say, Sakura, how would you like to be called, just by me remember, honey-girl?"_

_Sakura giggled, "You're just a copycat…copying that song!" she playfully accused her. _

"_Silence peasant!" her mother dove into her daughter's delicate body, tickling the nonsense out of her. _

"I know" Touya sighed, making note of their mother's picture.  
To be honest, he hadn't seen a picture of his mother in such a long time. Fujitaka never left any around the house, because when she left, she had left for good. Not a ghost to spare around the house, not even on her birthday. It frightened him, how people could move on so easily, but it also frightened him how he had lasted all these years pretending.

"We could've gone…dusted the place off a bit, gotten her some flowers, even" she spoke softly, the airport crowd having blended into a blur of triviality.

"Next time" he replied shortly, carrying one of Sakura's suitcases for her.  
They trailed along at a slightly distant pace, Touya a few steps ahead of Sakura, but with her suitcase at his side. He hadn't changed.

* * *

"What is taking them so long; we board in like twenty minutes!" Feimei grumbled at the unexpected tardiness the Kinomoto siblings possessed.  
I myself had known of just two experiences.

I had to admit the same though, where were they? They should have arrived about, maybe like an hour ago? Really, where is all this magnificence Touya deemed as a man?  
Can't a _real_ man get here on time? Of course, I could just use this as an advantage.

"I apologize, really, I have no idea what's gotten into those children" Fujitaka solemnly nodded, his face as apologetic as it normally would have been on any other delay. The man really knew how to command a role. Wouldn't be a bad idea to age that way, the bold Kinomoto-_man_.  
I can see all the books and self-guides, _How to Age with Eloquence and Subtle Delicacy: the Kinomoto Way_. Now that is a book I'd like to read.

"I'll try calling Sakura, maybe she'll answer this time" a voice that once irritated me to no end came from behind me. I turned to see Shouta and his father. They had been the first to arrive, thirty minutes before my own family had. The Watanabe's were right on the dot, always following needed instructions, even when no one called for them.

"Maybe she's not answering for a reason..." I jokingly mumbled, but very well hoped he had heard.

"Shut it, Li" he spoke severely as he covered his phone.

You see, the past few days, where I should have killed Shouta, I had changed my mind. I mean, I had spent a _whole_ day with the guy, talking, kind of, sort of, getting to know each other…unwillingly at first. But damn that charm and that persistent voice of his, I couldn't wink a single glance away from his yapping face. And not every word consisted of him, as I originally thought/hoped.

"Eh, she ignored my call!" he cried in disbelief, I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Actually, I didn't stifle shit. I laughed proudly because Sakura had finally stood up for me.  
She ignored his silly honey colored eyes and his ridiculously immaculate hair and his stupid…perfect nose. Anyway, Shouta can be an asshole, sometimes.

"Because I'm right here" a soft voice called for everyone's attention. Sakura's small voice.

She stood under an immense weight of weary panting. I glanced at the pink duffle bag she had been lugging around and identified the culprit. Touya stood a little ahead of her, his face tired from a long ride I assumed. Our eyes found one another for a split second that mainly consisted of a weak attempt at glaring.

"What took you kids so long? We're about to board in a couple minutes, Jesus, you two are damn lucky I made note of your luggage beforehand so we wouldn't have to cause a huge scene!" Even though Fujitaka lectured on about avoiding big scenes, his loud voice did all but avoid that exactly.

We all stared at the man with the all-natural megaphone, shocked at how abrupt it had been, but deep down, knowing that boom had been hiding in his chest all along.  
Now, _there's_ a real man.

"I'm so sorry, daddy, it's just Touya…you know how he is with driving" Sakura bowed in apology for her own father, her voice lightly touching sincerity, but by the looks of Touya, there had to be more to the story.

"It's fine, you're here and that's what matters, here are your tickets" Fujitaka sighed and gave his children their tickets, "Yelan, Watanabe and I have to leave already, our flight's ready"

"W-wait, your flight?" Touya shook his head, unaware of the flight arrangements.  
That's what you get for being so late, baka.

While Fujitaka explained to Touya that the _grownups_ had to fly separately because they were heading to a distant town a few hours away from Milan first, my hands were composed of nerves and inevitable urges of anxiety. Sakura stood right beside me, her pretty pink lips pursed because she's always thinking too much. I hadn't heard a word from her, but that's because I never made it so.

The guilt reminded me, _hey, Syaoran, you're the asshole that decided to ignore her, so YOU talk to her! _

Her eyes were dancing serenely above the view of my own, desperately avoiding an unnecessary conversation, or a confrontation of irregular mannerisms.  
I couldn't even tell if her lips would be capable of anything vengeful though.

"_So_, Milan, anybody else trippin'?" Shouta obnoxiously hooked us into his frantic attempt at words.  
His arm was reeled around Sakura's shoulder, as he tried doing the same with me, I dodged it.

"A-ah, yeah, should be super fun!" Sakura replied in the smiles her polite demeanor reminded her of. Her eyes were poised in uncertainty, her lips turned in a shallow smile, every single feature caressed with her signature loveliness. I felt my character sink a little, because I knew I wanted to talk to her. I knew I had wanted to these past few days.

"Oh, Li, despite this opportunity, your moodiness can't get past that insecure teenage wall, huh?"

Shouta grinned playfully, for some reason, we were all on amicable terms, we were all kind of becoming close…God knows how matters would end up after these two weeks.

"I think he's just nervous, hm, Syaoran?" Sakura looked towards my eyes, her sweet smile aching for my words; it's then when I realized that maybe the silence had gone on too far.  
Fuck insecurities.

"Pfft, nervous my ass "I mumbled safe within the walls of reality.

I glanced at my two companions and noticed Touya and Feimei were a few feet ahead of us.

"Hello! We're about to board, hurry up!" Feimei yelled across the room, her voice tangling many other airport conversations, in any case, interrupting them.

I rolled my eyes at her only to have Sakura poke my side, "Stop damaging your brain" she mumbled.

"I suppose we'll have to stop talking to each other then" my lips replied in the charisma Sakura and I had once relished in. Before someone had to butt in, anyway.

"Lovebirds, let's go" Shouta's gruff annoyance was clearly heard, as he bumped my shoulder with his own, and made sure his duffle bag managed to hit my foot.

He had several steps in advantage to us, suddenly Shouta's legs had been filled with perturbed annoyance, one of which I gladly assumed direction of.  
It was in my disposition that a day where Sakura Kinomoto walks by my side should benefit my entirety (where said satisfactory claims the aggravation of Shouta Watanabe).

We all walked in a comfortable distance from one another, Shouta's distance lengthening at incredible heights whenever we were to near him.  
Each step he proceeded to take further from us, I proceeded to step at his depths and accidentally hit his duffle bag with my own.

"Syaoran…" Sakura's sweet voice gave me a meek warning, her eyes glancing at my bag and back into my eyes. Her lips nearly formed a smile, but her eyes advised me of her delicate priorities. I thought of wanting to delve into those priorities, make myself comfortable and silly at the hands of Sakura, because that was exactly where my heart was anyway.

I sighed and released words my old self (old self, I'm sorry for such betrayal, but the guy's not too bad) would completely disprove of. "I'm sorry"

Shouta waved nonchalance with his hand at me and lazily replied, "Apology accepted, thank you Sakura"

Sakura laughed lightly and nodded her head, "He means it though"

"I have to" I mumbled in the pretense of five year-old sentiments, in which Sakura pinched my arm, "O-Ow, okay, okay, sorry for purposely hitting you Shouta, I just don't like you"Shouta turned his head towards me, his light eyes hitting every speck in my dark brown eyes.

We reached the lobby and waited in the short line of (mostly business men) for boarding.  
Sakura stitched several mumbles possibly to prevent a further argument up for grabs amongst Shouta's and my own words.

"That's not what you said last night" his silly words instigated a handful of giggles from Sakura and Feimei, and even a stifled laugh from Touya, before returning to his stoic appearance (before other _real-life_ businessmen).

I felt my face warm up a little, and grumbled at the completely misunderstood statement.  
"First of all, _you_ bumped into me, and in my defense, I tried hiding from you"

"Oh please, little wolf and I had our very own shopping spree yesterday, we almost bought matching cardigans, see?" Shouta cheekily pointed to and fro the navy blue cardigan he had on, the brass buttons low upon his abdominal area, and the cobalt one I had on, the brass buttons placed a bit higher than his own. "It was all his idea" he smiled tenderly before handing the flight attendant his boarding pass.

"Wow, café dates and shopping sprees, you two really seem to be getting along" Sakura smiled warmly, dismissing all the fabrications Shouta had playfully implied.

Her eyes glowed gently in comfort, happy that we were all going to be fine for two weeks. Her lips seeped into smiles of easiness, in turn, allowing mine to melt at her demand.  
Sakura just had to say one thing, and my whole day would be malleable upon her hands. She's just such a pretty girl.

But I sighed remembering my former pride, "It was a coincidence, nothing more and nothing less"

"Well, I don't know, you did seem pretty happy when you came home last night" Feimei's taunting words released another round of teasing, some of which I couldn't control.

"Because they had a sale on vinyl records, do you know how much a Crystal Castles vinyl would've have cost me?" I raised my voice in my defense.  
I knew of good taste and I absolutely knew of good music. One thing that had swept me off my feet were good prices, just combine all three and I swooned like a Catholic school girl. Feimei and Touya shrugged as they handed their boarding passes and swept in the tunnel entrance into the airplane alongside Shouta.

"Crystal Castles is out on vinyl already?" luckily that brought Sakura's attention elsewhere, elsewhere being much more favorable.

I nodded and grinned, saying, "I could lend it to you, if you want"

"Oh no, I couldn't, although, well, listening to them on vinyl would be really, _really_ cool" she nearly sighed at the puddle of admiration she held for their electronic genre.  
There was another thing I loved about this girl, had I mentioned? Sakura Kinomoto, aside from having the loveliest of faces I had ever seen, harnessed a magnificent taste for significance in quality. This extended into music.

"Don't worry about it" I smiled at her, forgetting the flight attendant 'ahem-ing' at my direction, "Oh right, here" I granted her my boarding pass and skipped into the tunnel, following beats my flushed heart composed. Maybe this was how Crystal Castles experienced music.

We were all seated in one area close together. The airplane was of convenient space, four seats in each row for the middle (the middle consisted of five rows), and three seats for each row on the left and right sides. Of course, this was only in our section, the rest of the airplane extended much more.

I looked down at my ticket for the location of my seat, B-52, just like on my iPod (oh shush, Rock Lobster is a fabulous song and you know it).  
For some strange, heart stopping, reason Sakura sat at the window seat next to what labeled my own. Next to the middle seat stood Shouta, debating on whether or not he decided having another body between the lovely elegance of the body he truly wanted.

After sighing and shrugging his shoulders, he tossed his duffle bag into the top bunk, and sat in his appropriate seat, grinning slyly to Sakura. She smiled back.

I placed my bag into its rightful place and sat in between the two regal (or once regal, now _friends_) bodies of Tomoeda Academy.

"Oh, um this was actually Feimei's seat, but she begged me to switch with her…I'm not sure why" her small voice still quavered in the anxiety of not having spoken for nearly a week.  
This was my fault.

"She just likes your brother"

"Oh…ew" her deadpan expression stemmed a short laughter of uncertainty.

I sat down and glanced at Shouta, he had a silly glare dancing across his eyes and brows, his lips were fussed in the same sentiments.  
"You've won this battle, Syaoran Li" he then shut his eyes dramatically, and reposed into a sleeping position.

"You're sleeping already?" I asked, faint teasing in my words.

"I've been running on two hours of sleep, go away" he mumbled, brushing his bangs away from his forehead.  
It seems even the prince had his grumpy moments of short-fused patience, especially when having dealt with temporary defeat.

"As you like it" I shrugged at his nonchalance.

"Is a wonderful play, you should read it" Sakura tilted her head to the side, turning her body towards mine in order for appropriate conversation composure.

I tilted my head slightly, apparently mimicking her behavior, "You mean Shakespeare?"

"Yes, I mean brilliance" she nodded heavily, her messy loose curls bouncing gracefully.

"I didn't know you liked Shakespeare" my eyes met her in a potential battle of literature, she would win.

"Well, he was my first love in junior high" she announced proudly, because most of us cringed when asked who we liked in junior high, and then we mumbled with modest and composed humiliation because now that person was a total weirdo. We all had those first loves at some point (luckily, I was a boy of poor charisma and cared not for love and all its antics).

"Ah, say no more" I hushed her delicately, bringing out my iPod and scrolling into the 'Movies' section.  
I lend her one of my earphones and placed the other in my own ear. The movie started.

"Romeo + Juliet, the one with Leonardo DiCaprio?"

"That very one" I nodded knowingly.

"I hate this movie, but only because I hate Claire Danes"

"She's pretty" I replied, glancing in hopeful expectancy of absurd jealousy on her part.

"She's nineties"

"So is that hat" I faked an effeminate voice and pointed at a woman's floppy, fuchsia, over-sized hat.  
It brimmed with Tia and Tamera styling from _Sister, Sister_ and a snippet of Topanga from _Boy Meets World_. Sakura giggled, hitting my shoulder out of politeness, right.

We were lured into silence as the pilot announced all safety precautions before initiating take off and Shakespeare's ideas played across my iPod's screen. Sakura's eyes were tangled into the 1996's take on the classically universal star-crossed lovers. I glanced at Touya, his eyes deeply consumed by slumber, and Feimei slouched upon his shoulder.  
Maybe Touya was Sakura's Tybalt, except, you know, modernized.

"My mom used to love this movie" her words seemed faint, backed by a crumbled wall of nostalgia.

"Yeah?" I wasn't prepared for nostalgia, not when I was too compelled by her radiance.

"Mhm, we used to watch it all the time, I barely remember, but I know of it"

"Ah…you guys still watch it?" maybe I wasn't as perceptive as I assumed myself to be, because Sakura's voice began to crack at the edges, every word had a flimsy appeal to it, wavering in bones materialized from fragile memories.

"No, she, she passed away"

I couldn't help but turn to look at her, turn to look at her eyes bordering tears, her lips trembling unspoken memories of soft benevolence amidst a bittersweet reality, and her hands grasping intangible comfort. But this stayed in my expectant imagination because I faced reality. In reality, real reality, Sakura's eyes remained sheltered, dry and composed. Her lips in place, her hands on her lap, nothing out of the norm betrayed her vulnerable voice upon mention of her mother.

"What's the matter?" the feigned tranquility she asked me in bothered me.

"N-Nothing…I'm sorry" my voice was slightly dry, much like her eyes.

"Don't be, I was only five" she spoke surely of her age, knowing years had not betrayed.

I nodded and looked back at the movie, the one her eyes had not left for a second before the arrival of her mother in our words.  
The tension did not leave our thoughts, certainly not mine anyway.

"I…I don't think I've ever seen your dad" her question could have been random, but speaking of parents, people who were there with you for seconds or years, I felt all these words coming.

"Oh, well, my parents divorced when I was ten" I answered her question, aware of my father's withering presence in my life.  
It was fine, I saw him every once in a summer, and that's all I needed sometimes.

"Hm…what's the story to that?" she finally glanced away from the screen and placed her eyes into my soul. I should have known better than to trust the safety I felt from her purity. She had a clever and curious mind of her own and knew well how to use it. Her eyes softened the curiosity because beauty dwelled behind and within those eyes. "We have time" she said, smiling lightly, aware of my countenance.

"Alright well…I don't know, one day my dad just woke up and fell out of bed, rumor has it, um, _mother_ has it, that he fell out of love in that instance too…he didn't hesitate to ask my mom for the divorce. He's kind of like that, you know, really sure of himself almost all the time, and whenever he's sure of something, he makes sure it gets done…he's a businessman in every aspect, it's a little scary"

"You sound like him" her words frightened my heart, they caused a complete halt in my beatings, because she knew of my determined mannerisms, and not only did she see a parallel in them with my father's, but I did as well. I always had.

"Yeah, that scares me too" my voice was late in my reply.

"What about your mom…how was she?" she seemed hesitant but curious too.

I sighed gently, nearly inaudibly, afraid to show concern for someone miles away.

"The same as every heartbroken woman with children would be, heartbroken, she showed it almost every day, and the really, _really_ sad part is that, I know she won't do anything about it, but…I-I know she still loves him, and, and not in that 'oh, I really care about you' kind of way, it's that 'I'll do anything for you because my heart is yours' kind of way, you know…I can see it, my sisters can see it too"

Where my words invited conversation from, I could not fathom, but it felt like a dam being freed from physical barriers. I felt my lips released from ignorance, because someone took notice.

"Wow…your mom, she's really strong" she spoke in small volumes, her throat tight.

I nodded lightly, aware of the strength that kook of a mother carried with her. It was surmised in her words and in every page of fiction she arranged eloquently from reality. It stemmed from a bleeding soul trapped in her heart, trapped in my father's heart. It was a little hard not to be bitter.

"I don't mean to offend but…" she spoke, looking at my eyes, waiting for permission. I nodded and she continued, "Well…I can't imagine living that way, knowing that the person destined for you, the person God promised you just doesn't love you anymore, it would hurt too much. And it's because they loved you at one point, and then that love completely died out…it would kill me every day" she finished, light tears peaking from her soul and out of her emerald eyes.

"God never promised us anything" I spoke.  
At the inching towards religion, my skin growled. It grew in the bitterness and contempt I once held for believes beyond reality and false expectations.

"Well, I think all things are written, you're written and so is that person waiting for you" she smiled, smearing the small tears from her eyes.  
They were tears holding much more than the tragic love story of a Chinese author and her loveless businessman.

My hand reached for hers and grasped within tender warmth. I squeezed because I wanted every tear to disappear from her lovely face.  
If she needed to cry, I would squeeze every single tear until her soul was happy, until her soul was smiling.

She leaned into my shoulder and we continued to watch the movie.

"Sakura…Claire Danes isn't why you hate this movie, is it?"

She dug deeper into my shoulder, her eyes lightly wet by memories of once love.  
Her left cheek pressed on to my shoulder, her eyes pressed against the iPod screen, and our hands intertwined selfishly.

"Wake me up in twenty minutes" she mumbled, reposing comfortably against my shoulder and seeking the universal remedy for a universal illness.

I felt a dampened happiness course throughout my veins and into my heart.  
We were as real as we'd like to be.

We were as real as our youth had once claimed.

* * *

So I've been totally stalling on the Europe thing. But guess what, they're on their way, literally. I actually started writing their arrival and everything in this chapter…but this chapter on its own was too long, so I had to cut it down to this. I hope it didn't disappoint too much, please bare with me. Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated.


	8. Us

OMGAWD SUPER FAST UPDATE!

Yeah, I already had part of this chapter on the previous one, so it wasn't like I churned it all out immediately after. Plus, I just want to get this story finished with already, and it'll probably be a tiny bit longer than 9-10 chapters, just a tiny bit more, do not worry...I won't make you read that much of this junk!  
Anyway, before anything...this is a LONG chapter.  
Possibly my longest (and I've had long chapters), so beware.

**bobba**: I can't believe I haven't said this, but thank you for sticking around since the first chapter!(:  
it means a whole lot that you actually take the time to review XD so thank yooou!

**saki-hime**: well, they're here! in this chapter, and yeah, not too exciting, but I tried compensating emotionally.

**elhai**: there's a lot of that anxiety-vanishing-holding-hands in this chapter, so I think you'll enjoy that :3

**lhaine07**: your review was actually a semi-template for this chapter XD, kinda like a guide, I took some of what you said and tried to  
incorporate it in this chapter, some of the teasing, their "witty" conversations (although my own wit's been running low), and the first move shall be accomplished ;D big time lol.

**broken emerald**: you're always too sweet towards my writing! I do appreciate the compliments though, I'm glad it's not being taken for granted ^^'

**Happyham**: Ahhh Shouta's just kidding! Totally not gay! Lol. But plenty of things shall happen in Europe, you shall see in this chapter the beginning, muahaha.  
And yeah, I think that's just my kind of writing, I like ending each chapter with its own little 'lesson learned' type of feel, or kinda 'epiphany moment' ending, idk.

**I wish I wasn't tone-deaf**: OMG EXPLAIN! I'm lost D: ish

**Riley S**: Thanks! If it's the one with Keira Knightley, then yep, that very one. I thought the movie was really good, but the book's way way better (like most books).  
I suggest you read it if you enjoyed the movie :) and I'm glad my music references are appreciated! They seem to be everywhere on this story lately.

Oh, and it helps reading this while listening to Best Coast, not a must, but it's what I had on when writing, just saying.

Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter, thank you.

DISCLAIMER: CLAMP owns Card Captor Sakura, indeed.

* * *

I hardly remembered the tears Sakura Kinomoto had shed the instant we arrived at the Milano Malpensa Airport, the bustle of people that slipped by our unprepared bodies had made absolutely no reminder of it. I looked back at the luggage I nearly thrashed around as we exited the catastrophe of unheard conversations, and realized, though we were all safe and sound at the entrance of the airport, a single honey haired girl was missing.

"Ehhh, where'd Sakura go?" Touya's concern missed not one ear, and perhaps the older brother affection was settling in.

"Wasn't she behind us?" Feimei looked around, her eyes hoping for the appearance of our missing honey haired, emerald eyed princess.

Shouta took his phone out and began to dial, who I assumed was, Sakura.

"I'm pretty sure your phone's completely useless in another country" I informed him, knowing my own had died upon the foreign air of Italy.  
And I was pretty sure he hadn't purchased any calling cards during our suffocation era in the airport.

"It's my dad's business cell, it works _everywhere_" he narrowed his eyes at me, seemingly offended by the misunderstanding of a common folk's knowledge.

"_It works everywhere_" I managed to mimic in a high-pitched voice, that very same generic voice for mimicking (which never happens to sound like the person).

He rolled his honey softened eyes at me, and proceeded to move away from the fleeting flock of panicked tourists, some gawking at the bright intensity Milan greeted their morning with, others astounded at the complete ignorance they had for the Italian language (setting aside _mama mia!_).

"Her phone's off" he sighed, his gaze returning to look for a trace of the missing Sakura.

"Well, she has to be around, it's not like we dropped her off somewhere else!" Touya grumbled, pacing around the entrance, but never daring to actually enter the black hole.

"Let's just calm down, she knows where the entrance is, she knows where the taxi cabs are supposed to be, she's a smart girl, I'm sure she can figure this out on her own"  
Feimei attempted to reassure the nearly grieving older brother's anxiety, placing her hand on his shoulder for consolation. Right, Feimei, _consolation_.

"Hah, Sakura may be a smart girl, but trust me when I say this, the girl is as senseless as her mother was" Touya scoffed, his worry disregarding most of his logic.

"Look, we have to get to the hotel before ten, it's already nine-fifteen, we really don't know how far away it is from here, so how about we get going while you look for her, yes, Kinomoto-san?"  
I turned abruptly, my mind circulating around the seemingly and seriously concerned (and mature, and grown-up, and every other adjective I never thought to describe Feimei with) tones of advisement she spoke to Touya with.

"Yeah, but the reservation's under my name, they'll need to ID me" he kept on going, his eyes never leaving the crowd of heads before us.

"Where exactly are we staying?" Shouta's eyes hadn't left his phone, his fingers searching for whatever his quick thinking had in mind.

"The Principe Di Savoia" Touya muttered, caressing his hair against his worries.

Feimei and I nearly flipped in the magnitude of residing within the walls of, not only a place we could hardly pronounce should our tongues allow the Romantic language invasion, but much less ever imagine affording. I glanced at the surely pale stricken sister of mine, her eyes meeting my own halfway. We both send each other a nervous grin, realizing how out of place we appeared between the very Touya Kinomoto and Shouta Watanabe. _Kinomoto_ and _Watanabe_, two very powerful names in Japan (well, Tomoeda).

"Ahhh, yeah, there's no getting past that without an ID"  
Shouta bit his bottom lip, his eyes narrowed once more, because even he had reminders of the extravagance and significance luxuries weighed on humanity.

I looked into the crowded airport and wished I had super-human vision. I wished I could scan the entire place with one swift glance and immediately locate Sakura.  
I wished her lovely radiance would be enough to guide me to her; I wished I could fly in there and sweep her off her feet. I wish I could've done that long ago.

"I'll look for her, you guys go ahead and get to the hotel before it gets any later"  
I spoke from the concerned faces around me, as I stepped onto the sidewalk and whistled for a taxi like I had seen in nearly every movie.  
Surprisingly, Hollywood kept some sincerity to their fiction.

My sharp whistle instructed a single cab to my existence, as it pulled over at our demand and gave us his most polished welcoming to Milan.  
Funny, I had only been kidding when I expected a Super Mario look-alike to greet us at the entrance of Milan.

On notice of our luggage he popped open the trunk, and got off the cab to help us load. Yes, good Mario.

"Welcome to Milan!" his cheery smile lifted his fluffed mustache, elating in the thrill of curious foreigners.  
We were all pleasantly surprised at his fluent sounding English, well, Touya and Shouta anyway. I'll stick to Japanese and Chinese, thanks.

"Thank you very much" Touya smiled his polished manners at the man as he helped him with the luggage, to which the man was overly grateful for.

Feimei and Shouta were the first to enter the taxi cab, Shouta explaining our situation in vague details.  
Super Mario nodded, understanding, and flashed us a patient grin. Maybe most Italians were all this happy…must be the pasta.

But anyway, before I get too stereotypical (only because it's time convenient to do so), Touya turned to me, his dark eyes glazed by the preoccupation of his young and only dearly beloved sister.

"Listen, I trust you with my life here, you better do as you said you would, got it?"

I looked directly into the young Kinomoto man's eyes and sensed the uneasiness his heart must have been processing. I couldn't fathom the worry Touya held for Sakura, because I wasn't her brother and I didn't have some creepy sister complex. But I understood that Sakura was, although probably not severely, lost and assuming her loss of directions, I knew it was in my hands for her own hands to be held once more (hopefully by me).

"She'll be just fine, relax" I mumbled at his disposition and handed him my luggage as I turned into the automatic doors of the Malpensa airport.

She would be just fine, because I would find you Sakura, and no one else. No one else will bother with you because you've been reserved for me. And if anyone else smiles at your pretty eyes, I won't worry. You'll smile back because you're polite, but somewhere in my soul, I felt the sincerity of your recent tears, and it's a memory that assures me security. I feel a little special holding your hand, comforting you while your heavy heart slept.  
_Sheesh, poetic creeper, much?_

Nearly immediately upon entering the airport, my footing sensed a familiar presence. I took steps near the café because my heart felt nerves I knew of. Sure enough, a dazed stare decorated the countenance of two bright eyes. The pink lips and small nose gave no indication of any other beauty but of Sakura's. She sat in one of the seats located at the entrance of the café, her earphones secured in her ears, safe from the inconvenience of a foreign land. Safe from any more pesky sentiments that could ruin otherwise a lovely experience.

I sat at the seat in front of hers and realized she hadn't noticed one change in her companionship. Her eyes were casted upon the tiles illuminating the steps of every soul traveling elsewhere. There wasn't a single thing that could distract Sakura from her own distractions, so I felt only a little rude when I poked her cheek gently.

"Hoe!" she jumped out of her seat and instinctively embraced herself from what she may have assumed to be a cheek fetish Italian pervert.  
I tell you; those Italians reigned every sexual fetish on the face of the earth…at least that's what Feimei's stay in Europe explained to me (gross).

Her cheeks were flushed when she noticed my casual smirk and the proximity of our hands once more.  
She immediately dusted her skirt from embarrassment; her next actions were in accordance to her flustered facial expression.

"You guys completely left me behind!" Sakura's pout accused me in representation of 'guys'.

I glanced at her facial features and decided that pouty Sakura deemed cuteness higher than teary Sakura, but only by a little.  
Her eyebrows were knitted together, her eyes looked down at her feet, a petty discomfort she felt upon the mere accidental confusion.

"Look, we weren't the only people here, it was a little inevitable, I'm sorry" I pointed towards the herds of business men, tourists, and "locals" that inhabited the airport.  
She followed my finger, even if she knew of the present fact.

"…You owe me a coffee" she mumbled underneath her hand which held her, her elbows steady on the table.

"Sakura, coffee at your age will be most unbecoming"

"Syaoran, lecturing at your age will be most unbecoming"

We shared a moment of staring, nothing but eyes connecting and intertwining.  
Meddling in the old sentiments that recollected in the first few days we managed to speak to one another (excluding small talk from former years).

Her eyes gave up first.

"You have very pretty eyes, you know"

The moment those exact words, I mean, every word that followed the other, left her lips, I feared for my life.  
Because at the second the compliment danced from her lips and crashed into me, I fell a little more and a little deeper. The blush couldn't help it, I couldn't help it.

"You're weird" I mumbled, regaining comebacks school girls my age normally conformed to. But that's probably because they liked someone just as badly.

"And you're blushing" her lips continued on with the incessant blushing my face had to endure.  
Her eyes held a glint of good intentions while warmth inexplicable to me maintained her good-natured smile alive.

I looked away and managed to keep a steady heart beat, while steady graced by the presence and unexpected compliments of Sakura cared for.  
She kept her composure, her back straight and relaxed, and I kept wishing her eyes felt the same.

"I read them, well, one, I started on another" I blurted because the tear across her eyes insisted on reacting.  
Today must have been heavy for the Kinomoto heart.

"Eh?" she tilted her head slightly, a gesture I had become familiar with.

I clenched my hand, and leaned my head on my hand, my elbow placed above the table, like her own.  
I may not have needed the support like she did, but I would accompany it all the same.

"The reading list you gave me, one down, four to go" I grinned at her reaction, her eyes were suddenly awake and her lips reunited with happiness.

"No way, really, I'm so happy!" her reality surpassed my expectations. I expected _Oh wow, fucking great, Syaoran, you read; you know who does that without being asked to? Shouta. Yep, only he's been reading for most of his life, books I like to read too. I might as well be with him, he is very smart, after all. _But I laughed on the inside. I laughed because the happiness growing and inching towards my hands came from reality and not my expectations.

"It's not _that_ big of a deal" but I replied coolly, completely composed of the nonchalance Shouta harnessed with ease, except I carried none of his charm.  
So I might have just sounded like an asshole.

"I think it is, I was afraid we would part ways there" she softly spoke her last words, words only audible to the mind, my mind.

"I don't think we'll part ways anytime soon"

She looked up at me, her earphones becoming unimportant all the more, the music she formerly drowned in finally fell beneath her waist and she stood with simplicity above the water.  
Happiness should be her better days.

"Not for another two weeks?" she poked her answer meekly at me.

"Not for another while" my reply provoked a smile, a genuine one.

She stood up from her seat and grabbed her luggage, "I hope it's a long while"

The small steps she took to stand in front of me contrasted greatly to the steps we took to be in front of each other after twelve years of coexisting. Coexisting but never saying more than what school days asked from us, never wondering if we needed more than we spoke from each other. I'm sure my random 'Sakura Kinomoto' dissecting days could not prepare me for the breaking moment that preceded this one.

"Milan awaits us" her lovely lips spoke, as she extended her hand in reach for my own.

I wasn't sure if to react immediately, or pull of some Chuck Bass move  
(whatever that was anyway, most of the girls in my class repeat that name over and over again, it's become an exclusive adjective for modern suaveness where masculinity is concerned).

But I reached for her hand and laced my own fingers with hers. The delicacy her hand caressed my own with sent shivers down my spine, the electric feel that MGMT chirped on about existed. That spark you hear about, holding hands you read about, everything flaunted on every clichéd pop song could not amount to the reality and happiness that now coexisted in my life.  
Sakura Kinomoto, you are my electric girl.

I insisted on carrying her luggage with my spare hand, and although she denied my help because her character told her to, it was less of a hassle.

We exited the airport in serenity, our hands building sentiments with the feel of the other. Everything felt beneath my feet, and I felt above gravity. Its official – and I mean legitimately official.  
I'm in love with Sakura. I know if something terrible happens, I will know of that heartbreak Rika could not ignite.

The streets that welcomed us gleamed with Italian sophistication. Though the streets graced undertones of tradition, the fashion and commerce that invaded most of Milan reached levels of modern life. There wasn't a boutique that Sakura did not 'Ooh' or 'Aah' at. There wasn't a dress she didn't insist on trying on, but then remembered she had left all her currency with her father, so with tears of exaggeration, she opted to dive into her strawberry _gelato_. We sat outside an ice cream parlor, rich with its traditional and uniquely fattening treats.

"I really just want to see Glasgow, to be honest" she sighed, slipping the small, white, plastic spoon into her mouth.

"Really, just Glasgow?" I couldn't say I wasn't surprised. You've bundled up the major attractions of Europe and you anticipate Scotland the most? Don't get me wrong, I'm sure its capital has some charms to offer, but you don't generally expect people, _teenage_ girls specifically, to dream about Scotland over Spain and Italy and England. Just saying.

"Mhm, Belle & Sebastian, Camera Obscura, Teenage Fanclub, Franz Ferdinand, it's the indie capital of the world, and I wouldn't miss it for it" her reply fit perfectly with her character. Sakura probably didn't need as much feminine idealistic desires as she put on. Something told me her happiness relied on her soul. Like everybody, but she knew of it, and she bared it all to the earthly happiness that came from something as poetically simple as words.  
I liked that.

"I forget you like sad music the most" I looked for her reaction, it was the same face those 'politically correct', uptight walking dictionaries gave whenever you termed anything for anything else.

"It's more than that!" she exclaimed, dropping her cup of ice cream down on the table.

"There's more than sadness?" I began our old words of debate, a grin on my face growing with each grumpy expression she gave.

"There's more to everything, Syaoran, believe it"

"Okay, Naruto" I jokingly compared, filling my mouth with even more mint chocolate ice cream. _Great, straight to my thighs_.

She laughed at my childish reference, leaving her spoon in her finished cup of ice cream. I was mistaken when I concurred that all girls in shape must eat carrots and celery sticks every fifteen minutes to keep breathing. Some girls ate everything, prime example, Sakura Kinomoto and her healthy appetite.

"Why do you like sad music so much?" I finally asked, wondering why someone who fit happiness better than God intended would prefer sulking to the days of Morrissey.

"It makes me happy" her simple reply constructed a paradoxical characteristic in her.

I lifted an eyebrow at her response and began to speak when she beat me to it.

"It's funny, you think sad things should make you sad, they ought to make you feel lonely, or maybe you feel lonely already, and it just accompanies you in your darkest hour, right?  
Well, I mean, I have those days too, but when I don't, which is more than I do, I'm happy listening to something sad like Sia, or – "

"Taylor Swift?" I hoped to interrupt because I wanted to make her laugh.

She giggled (success), and rolled her eyes, replying, "Only when Joe Jonas broke my heart" she feigned tears and wiped them away, "that totally crushed my everything"

"Oh, tell me about it, girlfriend" I said, pretending in our silly informal parody, but remembered her earlier words, "but go on"

She looked at my eyes, her emeralds connecting once more with mine.

"I just like feeling everything, sometimes feeling sad reminds me that I'm not dreaming, and that reality can be just as pleasant, just as beautiful"  
she finished shortly, her words resonating deeply and richly with the story of my life. I felt my heart swell in admiration, but more than that, it beat faster because I wanted this girl so much.

"You're a lot, Sakura" I finally replied after moments of silence, a smile satisfying my lips.

She looked down, a sheepish expression grazing her face, her fingers twirled together, and she was trapped in the shy girl she naturally was.  
The shy girl I naturally liked.

"Sorry" she mumbled, and I laughed.

"Don't, but speaking of apologies, you better come up with some type of grand performance for your brother when we get there"  
I glanced down at my watch and realized we had lollygagged for nearly an hour at random boutiques and cute ice cream parlors.

"Oh, that's right, Touya's going to be _so_ mad, great!" she grumbled, rubbing her temple.  
It seemed disappointment wasn't one of those earthly sentiments she appreciated too well.

"Don't worry, we'll say you were lost…very, very lost, yes?" my words seemed to soothe her worrisome expression in the slightest, preparing for the performance for forgiveness in a lifetime.

"You're turning me into a liar; I hope your conscious is fine with that" she replied, standing up from her seat.  
I followed suit and grabbed her luggage.

"My conscious is fine with a lot of things" I smirked at her, bravely extending my hand towards hers. She looked at it for several seconds, before a smile graced her own face. Her eyes still seemed a bit dim in comparison to her usual days. Maybe there wasn't a single thing I could do for her sadness today. Maybe God had already divided her happy days from her sad days and there wasn't a single external force that could decide otherwise. Maybe the easiest way to see happiness in her once more was to let the sadness take over.

But she held my hand, and we held hands, unbeknownst to any misunderstandings, but more so, not caring to ask, _why are we doing this? _Or _are we more than this?_  
Because all of that would cause confusion and no one needs that when you're sad.

"Hey, Syaoran, do me a favor" her voice interrupted a silence our hands created.

"Sure"

"Don't let me listen to sad music for today"

I glanced over to look at her as we passed a small pizzeria.

"Just for today?"

She looked down at her feet, her steps stopping.

"I can't afford it today" and she continued on with our collective pace, admiring all the local bistros we seemed to be passing by.

The local delights of Milan were entirely missed, because all that we encountered at the center of downtown were wannabe fashionistas, powdered girls with tiny dogs, and the occasional resident just trying to get through the busy pavements.

"We really should look for a cab" I said, looking around for any tiny yellow cab, my hand still with Sakura's hand. Funny, we had but a clue to what we were doing, and to the world, we may have looked like a couple. Sometimes I'd hear voices whispering compliments, words on how cute we looked, sometimes calling us the _Chinese couple_, the _Japanese couple_, or even the _Korean couple_. You never really notice a culture difference until you're out of your own safe air.

"Yeah…Syaoran, that lady keeps whispering about us" she grumbled her last words in a low tone, looking towards the indicator of our problem, our hands.

"Oh, well, you can let go if you want…" please say no, please say no, because I really like how soft your hand feels in my own.

Sakura's eyes looked around, nervously taking in the eyes that a couple attracted.  
Eyes she was used to, but not for the reasons that were brought upon. But she smiled meekly and tugged on my hand.

"Do you want to let go?"

Oh, Sakura, you're supposed to say yes or no, it's a simple as that!  
Not ask me what I think of holding hands with you, you'll make me babble on about how nice it feels, because truthfully, no hand has ever felt this way. I've never felt this way.

But I grunted and mumbled, "Let's just go look for a cab" dragging her along with our hands still attached. I heard a giggle from her, but I dared not look back.  
I couldn't afford any more embarrassment.

After minutes of walking beside one another, and minutes of hands fumbling with each other's, we managed to haul in a taxi, somehow a bit harder than the first time (whistling doesn't always work). The taxi pulled over, and was it by any chance a rule that every taxi driver had to look like a character from Super Mario? The man's mustache seemed less abundant, and held a rather harsh look to it, his nose was round and button-like, but not cute button-like, more like clown-nose, you know? We concluded that he shall be named Wario. Wario, take us away!

"Where to?" his English seemed stockier than Mario's, but we understood all the same.

"Principe di Savoia, please" the smoothness in the pronunciation of her words astounded me.  
Sakura was smart, pretty, cultivated, kind, witty, everything. The unrealistic feeling is setting back in.

Wario hardly managed a smile, if one, it was for the lovely lady by my side, but simple grunts and grumbles were just for me.  
Oh, joy.

"Have you decided on the excuse you'll tell your brother?"

Sakura turned to look out into the streets as we passed by with ease. Her eyes maintained its smooth composure when she answered; "We were making out, you got carried away and I let you" she turned back and smiled. I felt my face burn with the idea of the very own Sakura imagining such physical contact with _me_.  
Sure, not like I've never thought of it, but for her to think of it? And then _say_ it? It was just too much.

"E-eh? I-I can't, n-no, he'll, you and us – "my lips couldn't even fumble around the words that attempted to form in my mind, not with the very image plastered all around.

"Yes, us" but she ignored my stuttering incoherency and smiled sweetly, her hand clasping my own.  
Great, now she knew my hands were sweaty.

I felt my eyes widen as I gulped nervously, I looked down at her hand, our hands, and realized my happiness was just as good as her own.  
They were very near each other, and all it took was one step to unite the two. I shall not falter.

"Sakura…listen – "

"WE'RE HERE" the obnoxious voice in which Wario interrupted my own could not have been more intentional.  
Remind me never to trust Wario look-alikes; they're just as bad as real Wario's.

I grumbled a few curses at the taxi driver as I gave him whatever I estimated to be the exact currency.  
He kept the change.

"_Grazie_" I mumbled my thank you as he sped off without hesitation.  
Asshole.

We stood amongst an architectural marvel I could only imagine in movies, the ones with George Clooney or Meryl Streep, well, before she went all 'rom-com' on our hearts.

Sakura looked just as astonished upon the beast of the building; it was necessarily lavished in its urban-like design, but deemed recognition on its own.  
She took steps ahead of me and stopped at the entrance.

"Hey, Sakura, I wanted to talk about – "but before I could finish she sped off, carrying her luggage with her.  
She didn't look twice; she didn't care for my words. What is wrong with you?

"I'll meet ya' inside!" she called back to me, turning slightly with her words in my direction.  
But she left me dumbfounded, gawking at the inexistent presence that once stood by me, listening and holding my hand. _What the fuck?_

* * *

What is wrong with me? What am I even thinking? Am I sick? Hm, no, no fever. Am I high? No, my dealer's out of town (just kidding). Ugh, what are you thinking girl! Holding hands with someone who isn't even your boyfriend, you're not five, you can't just grab a hold of anyone's hand because you're afraid and teary-eyed, no, that sort of comfort is strictly reserved for two special people. Not…not friends, not someone you want…not someone you're afraid to tell the truth to. I really don't want to ruin anything, so maybe by staying by your side, Syaoran, and not telling you _hey, hey you, I like you this much! _will make everything at its best.

"It's not right…" I spoke softly, my body on the comfort of the luxurious bed. I shared my hotel room with Feimei, but she had gone shopping as soon as they checked-in.  
Shouta and Syaoran shared a room, Touya and my dad shared one, and Shouta's dad had his own. It must have been an age division/gender thing…or something.

My hands tingled with the missed sensation Syaoran had ignited.  
His hands were big, much bigger than mine, warm and strong.  
I could etch every inch of his skin with my mind and not feel the same comfort I had in my hand, not realistically.

I really shouldn't have ditched him like that…but when he spoke words in that serious manner, a manner that indicated, _hey, let's talk about what we're doing and what's going on because I need to know of this beforehand_. I couldn't listen; I didn't want to, I wanted us to be together…us, side by side, laughing and smiling, not awkward and shy.  
You're being unrealistic, Sakura.  
You like him…a lot.

I stood up because sleep had been completely useless at this point. Dr. Seuss was right, wasn't he? You don't sleep because your reality is better than your dreams now, now that you're in love. In love? Is that what this is? All these irrational feelings of selfishly wanting someone, without regard to anyone else? I thought love wanted happiness for the loved one, not…wanting them with you at all costs. At all costs, is that our friendship? Life's a big trade-off, you trade one thing for another, and so does that mean I'm trading our friendly days for those of greater meaning?  
But who says friendship isn't just as important as love…love, how overrated.

I grumbled at my tired appearance. I hadn't showered, I hadn't changed, I hadn't done a single thing since arriving into Milan but fatten myself and complain about normally irrelevant matters. They're matters you need to do something about though; I had to do something about selfishly holding his hand and not letting go.  
I want to hold his hand again.

Sighing, I proceeded to remove my navy blue skirt and white button up, short sleeved shirt.  
Before I go do anything crazy, that could further endanger my relationship to the one boy that's ever driven _me_ crazy, a shower would be necessary…but maybe a bubble bath would be nicer.

Turning on the marble bathtub, I looked between the provided hygienic materials and decided on vanilla and sugar.  
I needed something to purely scrub off all the ill-intentions I had thought of earlier today, especially on that taxi cab.

Maybe I could sleep a whole lot after this warm bubble bath, because my delusional mind clearly needed it.  
Syaoran's sake clearly needed it.

* * *

"What happened?" Shouta's monotone voice interrupted all my fumbled thoughts, his eyes glued to his laptop, fingers clacking against the keys.

I ruffled my hair, hoping my thoughts were ruffled away, but alas, reality is not quite as simple. Shouta sat on his twin bed, working diligently on something since I had entered our room.  
I lay on my own bed, parallel of his, regarding my own thoughts with whatever had occurred earlier today with Sakura.

"What, nothing, I'm fine" I replied, clearly bothered.

His gaze was kept on his laptop's screen, his fingers busy with unspoken words.

"Something happened, you're all bitchy" Shouta kept his same uninterested, monotone voice.  
If any curiosity was alive within him, it could not be heard.

"What the fuck, not even" I grumbled, laying on my back, covering my face with a pillow.

"…anyway, what did you do?" he continued in the same voice.  
The same voice that began to irritate me, because he asked questions but showed no interest, but maybe because I needed to talk to someone.

"I…its Sakura"

He finally looked up and closed his laptop.  
He sat Indian-style on the edge of his bed; his hands supporting his face, as he said "Go on"

My eyes traced his own, realizing that he probably knew more than I could imagine.  
He had been sneaky the past week, crawling all over Sakura, claiming her company his, and probably speaking words I couldn't know of…secrets.

"I-I think she might like me, uh, what do you think?" the words shocked even myself, I hadn't planned on it, I hadn't thought too much of it.  
But it was instinct.

Shouta was quiet, and he stood up abruptly, grabbing his navy blue cardigan, ignoring my own stare.  
He looked defeated, once more, and irked by the very own uncertainty of my words.  
I couldn't understand the irritation, because it wasn't entirely jealousy.

"…where are you going?" I asked as he grabbed the key to the room.

"You're fucking annoying, seriously" he spat without hesitation, no apologetic hint hindered his words, they were plain and simple.  
He was real.

"Hey, what the hell?" I stood in front of the door, demanding an explanation.  
I mean, I know I've thought the same for him, hell, he probably knows of it as well, but to be said without a cushioning?  
I felt a turning point in my day, another one.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that? You've got it all so fucking planned out for you, and you don't even bother being a _man_ and owning up to it, owning up to her, seriously, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of seeing you two smiling at each other, and that flight, oh my God, kill me now, you couldn't have pretended I was there, you couldn't have pretended you cared for my sake, not one fucking bit of consideration…sheesh" Shouta's face was red, his eyebrows were furrowed together, his fists were clenched tightly.  
There wasn't anything that prepared me for his anger, his bare naked anger.

"…you were asleep, it's not like I…" I couldn't even gather an apology, anything.  
I was dumbfounded.

"Oh yeah, like someone sleeps for that many fucking hours, Syaoran, God, you piss me off so much"  
he slammed his fist on the door behind me, avoiding me entirely, but just as upset.

"Oh, _I _piss you off, really? Like you don't do the same" all consideration was lost, if he wanted to argue, I'd fucking argue his pretty little head off.

"Hah, enlighten me, Syaoran, let me guess you hate how fucking _popular_ and _perfect_ and fake I am, hm? Yeah, tell me something I don't know, because you're as transparent as you see the world" he neared me, his eyes filled with anger, an anger that equaled my own at this point.

"Shut the fuck up, you couldn't give a shit even if _you_ owned up to all of that, you know it's true, you – "

"Oh cry me a fucking river, you shouldn't even be saying anything, judging people without even knowing them, dismissing them because they put everything they've got out in the open, so it's just easier for you to sit back and say how fake everyone is, but honestly, that's not what pisses me off about you, not mainly"  
Shouta grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, tugging me harshly, both our eyes battling in the within the same anger, albeit fueled differently.

"Oh yeah…then what does, hm?" I gritted my teeth, my words coming out roughly.

"Don't act dumb, Sakura likes you"

The last three words were enough to make me melt.  
Sakura wasn't around, but for someone to see reality the way I've been suspecting it gave me even more hope.

He let go of my collar and backed away, his hand running through his hair, pushing his bangs back, his eyes seemed all the more deep in disappointment.

Sighing, he sat back down on his bed, his eyes lidded by the situation.

"H-How do you know?" I managed to ask, my voice dry but audible.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Like I said, you're an idiot"

I looked at him once more and realized his eyes had diminished in anger.  
He appeared weak and vulnerable, aware that everything he had intended these two weeks was over.  
His hair remained under his hand, his eyes empty.

"I'm sorry, but…I'm not doing anything to benefit you" and with that being said, I left the room, not wanting to endure any awkward moments with Shouta.

* * *

__

Sakura likes you. Sakura LIKES you. SAKURA likes you. Sakura likes YOU.

Anyway it was said, it just couldn't register with my mind. My heart seemed too overjoyed to even acknowledge reality, but there must have been some truth to Shouta's unsuspected jealousy and dislike for me. Before Sakura, neither of us would have cared for one another. He would have gone on with his life; I would have done the same. When was it that we both started to speak to one another? When did he fall for her? Was it before I did? Maybe we were always in love; we just needed her by our side to confirm it. When her hands were there to hold, everything felt right. But it couldn't have been any hand, no, if it were any other hand, I would have looked the other way. |  
I wouldn't be standing where I was, I wouldn't be walking to Sakura's room.

My brave hands were ready to knock on her door, when something else stopped me, someone's finger tapping my shoulder.

"Uh, what're you doing?" I turned to see Feimei carrying three plus-sized shopping bags, looking lively as ever.  
It seemed shopping for hours energized rather than drain her from any more physical movements.

"Oh, um…is Sakura here?"

Feimei's eyebrow lifted only a bit, she smiled slightly realizing the air around my search for the cherry blossom.

"No, she's downstairs, in one of the small dining rooms, you should dress for dinner" she replied, sliding by me and into her room.  
Before closing the door she said,"She looks a little out of it, you should go fix it"

And then her door faced me once more. It seemed I was on my own with these feelings. Shouta couldn't help, and it would only be cheap on my part to anticipate his help. Feimei wasn't too engaged in my love life, she never was, but it's because she knew I knew of everything on my own. She didn't know this was a matter foreign to me.

But I did as told and went back to my room, luckily, Shouta was already heading downstairs as I met him on the way back.  
He was dressed nearly the same as I had been on my first dinner with the Kinomotos.  
A black suit, his hair with small traces of mousse giving him a suave edgy look…there was no way I was about to top that.

So I opted for a simple look. I walked back down into the dining room in my black slacks and a button up, yep, no suit, just a black skinny tie.  
I'd rather not have to be compared to Shouta throughout the entire night, especially with the promotional company representatives from Milan being there.

Exiting the elevator and entering the fifth floor, I saw a sign which indicated the Kinomoto-Watanabe-Li reservations (I think Kinomoto would have sufficed). At the table sat all the Kinomotos (minus Sakura) and both the Watanabes, my mother but not my sister. I sat next to my mother, who sat next to Fujitaka, who sat next to Touya. Shouta and his father sat opposite Touya and Fujitaka, which left Sakura the seat next to Shouta and in front of me. Great.

"Is Feimei coming?" I asked as I took my seat next to my mom.  
Mother looked refined in her dinner's best dress, nearly unrecognizable from all those crazy Sunday writing sprees she normally indulged in.  
"No, she's terrible tired, I'm afraid" Mother replied.

I sighed feeling alone in a roomful of people, people I would normally feel at ease with, where formal settings required.  
A few minutes later, Sakura arrived, panting from the run from her room. I would've looked away from our earlier shortcut of words, but she the way she looked for the evening…

She wore a red cardigan, with a small sailor collar to it, her skirt was of a valentine red-pink button up, and her legs were covered in sheer tights, pink high heels elevating her 5'5" stature. She wore a pearl bracelet with a small pink heart charm attached to it. Her honey hair was let down, tresses of waves enhancing the beauty I was once dumbfounded by, but could now only gape at with love-stricken abandonment.

"Sorry, I'm late…again" she mumbled lastly, bowing down, but we all silently forgave her.  
She took her seat in front of me, beside Shouta, who she gently smiled at, but was only welcomed with a weak smile, hardly suitable for his handsome countenance.

Her eyes held concern, but did not explore anything else. She couldn't, we couldn't, not amidst the formal companions.  
And that's when two unfamiliar men entered our room.

One was of a tall stature, green eyes, brighter than daylight, and thick curls of dark hair, framing his oval face, his companion fell a little shorter, with a lighter complexion and olive green eyes, his hair was of an ashy brown. Fujitaka stood up to greet them, their Italian accents bordering their every word, but regal, nonetheless.

"This is Alberto Ricci, our promotional guide for Milan, and his assistant Emilio De Luca" Fujitaka announced the two men, and soon introducing Yelan and Watanabe (whose name was apparently Kouhei), we were given brief introductions (to which Touya was slightly peeved by).

Alberto took his seat next to Fujitaka while Emilio took the seat across from him. Suddenly, their conversation was invaded in foreign speak. I couldn't believe just how fluent Kouhei's Italian sounded. I wondered how many languages he knew, if Shouta knew just as much or was on his way, if I was the only one completely puzzled by the strange words, everyone seemed calm.

The relentlessly long dinner was a bore, Fujitaka and Watanabe having resolved all their issues and announced a PR interview with Yelan tomorrow morning.  
My mother looked delighted in the idea of having cameras filming her every word. She normally liked the attention.

Sakura and Shouta appeared lost, meddling in their own subconscious, unaware that I couldn't meddle elsewhere but in their circumstances.  
I wanted to finish everything with Sakura once more, without Shouta's vulnerability to hinder anything.

They both whispered something to each other and asked to be excused, a thought that did not bode well with me. I felt my insides churn in anxiousness, because I had no idea where Shouta's words would lead Sakura's heart. Mother glanced discretely in my direction, her eyes telling me what I should do. So I said, "Please, excuse me" and stood up following the two.

As I walked their direction, I heard bits of their conversation.

"If you wanted to, we could go early, it's such a pretty spot, during Yelan's interview, I mean we don't have to be there…besides, I really want to show you, you'll love it"  
that was Shouta, undoubtedly asking Sakura out on another date.

I closed my hands, aware that Sakura would say yes. Of course she would, Shouta was only fucking with you. He's like that, because before you knew him to be pleasant, you knew him to be manipulative, charming to benefit his own desires. That's right, don't feel bad, you should never feel bad when you want something this badly, Syaoran.

"Shouta…I, I'd love to– "

Lord knows why I threw logic and timing out the window, but I approached the two, angered that Sakura dared accept another date with him, after having held my hand and gently spoken words I could never expect.

"Really, Sakura, _really_?" they both turned to look at me. I didn't have to hide; my face no longer masked disappointment.  
It revealed everything.

Sakura's eyes flourished in confusion and bits of betrayal. Her lips were open, ready to speak, but I spoke first, my eyes then rested on Shouta.

"I mean, no big deal, but, do you just hold hands with anybody, hm? Do you like making people feel like _that_ just to forget them the next day? Hah, actually, no, the next instant? I don't know who you think you are…but…" I felt my voice weaken once my stare let go of Shouta's angered look, as it fell upon Sakura's crystallized eyes.  
They swam in pools, captivating our moment in tones of hurt and disbelief.

I had to tell her though, "…but you can't do that to people, you can't just say things like that, say that you like them and then completely forget they have feelings, you can't…you can't flirt the way you do for so long, because…because it has consequences" I finished, looking away, aware of the vulnerability standing before me.

But she just stood there, Shouta getting a hold of her shoulder, meekly attempting to comfort her, knowing that if she cried on his shoulder, he would have the upperhand.

I sighed, after realizing Sakura wouldn't say a thing, and in defeat, said, "Just go on your date, forget it, I'm no one to tell you what to do" and I turned around, mumbling curse words at my own rash behavior and decided on exploring Europe on my own account, without unnecessary earthly sentiments.

But seconds after I began to walk away, I heard heels clicking in my direction, a sweet voice calling me out, calling me to stop for her, calling for my attention.

"Syaoran…please, wait"

I slowly turned around; trying to prepare for whatever may have come my way. But the uncertainty stayed by my side, like most of my life. There was always that uncertainty making me stop, making me catch myself from actually risking anything. And it was in those moments that I envied Eriol's abrasive actions, how he did what he pleased, be it superficial or not, he followed the pursuit of his desires, all consequences out the door. And here I was, half-assing it all, even when it came to her.

"…" I didn't say a word to her, I didn't hide my frown, my tired eyes would have given everything away anyway.

"I don't think you understand" she finally uttered, but what didn't I understand? I didn't understand how much greater Shouta was? Is that why you selfishly flirt with me because it's silly and it's all just fun and games….but you go on dates with him, you want to go on dates with him. You want the fairy tale dream with him, is that it?  
That bastard must've been gladly cheering and congratulating himself right about now on his way to our room.

"Then tell me…what don't I understand?" I told her, leaning in closer to her, making sure she knew I was here, and that everything around us was real.  
Everything we had could be so much more.

The space between us felt short. There was absolutely no depth for us to compensate in, she could reach out for me within the small distance that stood between us.  
Her hands could easily touch my cheek, caress my hair, pinch my nose, and brush my eyelashes as she complimented my eyes once more.

"You don't…you don't understand how I feel, I don't like Shouta. You know that, you've known that…and, even though I don't know what's going, I want it, I want it to keep going, I want us to keep going, but, but I really don't know if we can stay the way we are without getting impatient" she finished with a faint blush on her cheeks, a lovely rosy color that allowed my expectations to vaguely align with my reality.

My silence meant she had to fill in the empty blanks that must have been the way she interpreted anyway.  
She lowered her gentle voice a bit; tender in the way she awoke.

"When we were in the airplane, I knew what I wanted to do when I got here; I just hoped I had the courage to do so…I don't think I do, Syaoran, I don't know if I can do it on my own, especially on that flight, when I cried, I wanted to cry so much more, but I couldn't because I wasn't alone, I was with you…you were with me, holding my hand and it felt like the world had stopped, but even when the world stopped, I couldn't tell you" her lips trembled, I had a feeling grasping my heart, a feeling that I wasn't the only person weighing heavy on her heart, this was beyond me. This was beyond love, it was beyond nostalgia, it was about existence, the existence of her mother.

"Sakura…please, just tell me everything"

She looked up and into my eyes, memorizing every speck she could find.

"I…I want you with me, I want you there with me when I cry, because I hardly ever do and it hurts a lot, I want to stop hurting, so I want to cry, and I can if you're with me. I know, this makes me sound weak, but it's just the opposite, really. When I'm with you, I have fun and I'm happy, I don't worry about stupid things like making sure everything's right…I just like being with you, because, well because I like you and – "

_I like you_ is all I needed.

Because things wouldn't feel right without it, I pulled Sakura, almost a bit too roughly, because I couldn't stand the space between our chests. My arms wrapped around her small shoulders instinctively, as I buried my face into her honey kissed hair. I felt my heart stop when she responded, her arms wrapped around my torso, her breathing deepening into my chest. I felt right, the world felt at ease, my heart couldn't decided whether to beat or not, and my happiness was one.

The faint scent that welcomes me was that of completion and vanilla.

"You know, you could've just said _I like you a lot_, silly" I mumbled into her hair, taking in the moment piece by piece.  
This was reality, right?

I heard her laugh a bit, and then mumble something to herself.  
After a couple more seconds, we let go and looked at one another.

The stare lasted a while as well, until she began to laugh, and laugh and laugh. I lifted an eyebrow at her, curious to know what exactly tickled her fancy.  
It wasn't just a tiny laugh, it was a shameless laugh, ignoring everything, ignoring my curiosity.

"Oi, what's so funny?" I asked, grumpy sentiments bordering my words.

She looked at me and managed to tone it down a bit, and speak, "It's just funny…you know, the two of us, together…right?"

I looked at her, a smile framing my features, and replied, "Well, I mean, it's not 'us', yet"

She titled her head, her eyes bright with interest, "Huh?"

I grabbed her hands and caressed them with my own, memorizing all the softness her fingers knew of, the delicacy I knew of with my hands.  
These hands that would do so much for her.

"I don't know how to ask without sounding stupid…but um, do you want to be – "

"WHAT'RE YOU DOING TO MY SISTER?" Boom – crash – disaster.  
Fuck you Touya.

The overprotective older brother arrives to serve his duties, grabbing Sakura by her shoulders and demanding her presence in _his_ arms and not mine.

"Touya! We're just, we're just talking, sheesh!" she pushed him aside, flustered at the intrusion of our private moment.  
I couldn't help but laugh a little, which caused Touya's attention to me once more.

"What's so funny, hmm?" he barked, grabbing Sakura's wrist.

"Nothing, nothing, just uh – "Touya butt in once more though.

"You will see each other tomorrow, WITH PEOPLE AND CAMERAS AROUND" Touya's voice yelled in exaggerated tones, dragging Sakura off with him.

She smiled sheepishly and apologetically, waving a 'see ya' later'.

I sent her a smile, disregarding everything that could have been wrong with our day. Our happiness could waver off these pesky nuisances, our days would light up everything because we knew of an existence that wanted more than to coexist. We would hold hands all we'd like, we would tell stories of the impossible, we would whisper every secret we've ever thought to mention. Because Sakura meant more to me than any girl I previously cared for. She meant the world, but she also meant an 'us'.

I searched into my pocket and turned on my iPod, announcing a farewell to expectations.

_So when I'm with you I have fun, yeah, when I'm with you, I have fun_.

* * *

OMG SUPER CHEESY DIALOGUE!  
lol, sorry I couldn't help it, but I'm a romantic at heart and I wish people spoke like that (◕ 3 ◕)  
I hope this was alright, thank you, feedback please :)


	9. Eternal Sunshine, By Your Side

Okay, here is chapter nine. It's decent, it's very Sakura-centric, as opposed to the switching POV's, this one sticks to Sakura's.

**HappyHam**: I'm not trying to make Syaoran too weird XD. But I suppose I'll let you in on a little secret, a lot of his thoughts are sort of based on my own. I really relate to Syaoran's character, so if he comes across as a little too weird, well, blame my own personality lol. And yeah, if Tomoyo can't be there, there certainly will be camera's in her honor! Haha. And rest assure, Shouta has lost for good :)

**I wish I wasn't tone-deaf**: Oh, thank goodness chapter seven did its job! I was scared it'd come across like the typical fanfic. YES! PEOPLE RECOGNIZE MY REFERENCES XD  
Lol, poorly done, but done nonetheless. Glad you enjoyed those! Right? Yes. Hahah. Ahh, yeah, this all goes back to my pacing, I never know when to do what, so I kind of just go  
with it 'till it feels "right". Makes sense?

**MediaTec**: Sorry! Lol, I'm really bad when decided when to do what and blah blah blah, but it's happened and it's one thing they can't go back on ;) heh. Ah, their fight was one part I actually enjoyed writing, so I'm glad it served its purpose, I think. And don't worry! I actually had in mind that they would become really close friends, although it's proving a little more difficult to write out than I had imagined.

**elhai07/lhaine07**: I'm suspecting you are the same person? I can't tell! Lol, sorry ._. haha, but regardless, thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so happy I was able to contribute to your hopeless romantic mode week :D haha, it means a whole lot. Because when I get like that, it marks a lot of my euphoric days. But yes, they like each other and they're together, that's for certain! As for the song recommendation, I loved it! I've been listening to it on replay for a while now XD thanks!

**bobaa**: I'm sorry the habit was not made u_u lol, I tried, I've just been overwhelmed with my college stuff, it's all lame :s BUT, thank goodness someone appreciate my crummy references! Lol, I tend to make a ton and sometimes I feel as if they go unnoticed. Anyway, hopefully you catch some references in this chapter, although, I don't think I mentioned all that many, if any.

**Saki-hime**: Oh, good! I was afraid I had gone overboard on the cheesiness, it's a bad habit of mine, heh. Prepare for the cheesiness in this chapter :3

**teenureen**: Thank you, I'm glad when you started reading this you reviewed the first chapter and even the last :} hope you enjoy this chapter!

**broken emerald**: I hope you don't mind that this chapter focuses entirely on Sakura's POV, it's a little necessary for some of the events ._.

**sadistprincess **and **Ree-Vance**: OMG WHERE WERE YOU TWO WHEN I WAS BEGGING FOR REVIEWS? XD Lol, jk, but I do certainly appreciate you reviewing every chapter :D it made my day seeing people appreciate this story ^-^. **sadistprincess**, I loved your feedback! Nearly every single one made me giggle :3 Much love to you! And **Ree-Vance**, I hope you enjoy this!

**mimietgigi**: I appreciate your views, I really do, I'm glad there are people who's faith is strong, I admire you for that :) But rest assure, I have my own beliefs. I do not agree with Syaoran's thoughts, I wrote them because I like diversity in characters. As a writer, I try to portray as many characters as I am able to. Thank you for reviewing!

Ahhhh okay, okay, well please enjoy this chapter, I tried ._."

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

* * *

Sunshine poured in through the windows; the curtains had been tossed aside, tangled in a careless disposition only Feimei could have done. In the few hours of sharing a room with the quirky twenty-something year-old, I had realized where all the creative Syaoran seemingly lacked had gone towards. She seemed proud for her age, no one ever seemed proud at her age, except for Touya…but he was born proud. Feimei never cleaned up after herself, when she craved nudity, her clothes remained on the floor, waiting for a generous hand.  
When she craved a shower, her towel was left abandoned on her floor, the exact position she had shamelessly dropped it, stripping her bare of any fabric before my eyes.  
I could hardly see the Li relation; she seemed the opposite of Syaoran.

_Syaoran. Syaoran Li. Syaoran Li and Sakura Kinomoto_.

I tugged on to the blanket, feeling the warmth escape my fingers and embrace my hands, and my legs, my stomach and my feet.  
Everything felt warm this morning. Not every inch of ice had been melted; I slept more than I had planned though. Syaoran made it so.

Syaoran and his fiery eyes, the so-called fire eyed boy, the boy Social Broken Scene may have inspired, the boy I liked without a hint of shame. I'll have you know, Sakura Kinomoto, is a girl of incredible shame and modesty upon anything capable of embarrassment. Liking someone and being embarrassed about it…you probably don't like them at all, silly.

"Sakura-chan, I don't want to bother you, or anything, but you have to be ready in thirty minutes" Feimei's casual voice floated in from the bathroom.  
Her voice felt strained, she must have been putting on some mascara.

Mascara, is this what love brings? It must, I hardly wear any, because when no one looks, I'm always sleepy, so I always rub my eyes. It wouldn't be convenient.  
But…maybe for Syaoran, convenience shouldn't matter, in fact, I can't remember the last true romance parading on convenience. Oh, and the words just won't stop…romance.

"Hm, it's no bother at all, I'm up" I made sure a smile was heard.

There was no reply, so I assumed the eyeliner was next.  
Feimei was a very pretty girl, pretty in that unconventional way, because if you looked closely, she had short eyelashes, freckles, and crooked teeth.  
But she was beautiful as far as the eye could see.

Once my feet hit the ground, my heart hit reality. Moments of the night before reminded me Syaoran smelled like cinnamon when he was angry, and that it matched his eyes more than any other scent. The cinnamon coursed through my body once his arms were my escape. Such a silly thing, melting your existence into another when your defenses are down, but nothing could have been more appropriate.  
My sentiments would certainly protest, otherwise.

I looked into my suitcase, still unpacked; only my carelessness had forgotten about it all last night.  
I had forgotten about everything, just not about you, Syaoran.

"It's pretty cold outside, just so you know" Feimei waltzed in jeans, and a top covered by her navy blue coat.  
A black and white tweed scarf covered her neck, indicating just how cold it was outside.

Sighing, I nodded at her, as she left for downstairs. I didn't even know why I just nodded. I could've said more, but maybe, because she was Syaoran's sister, everything became illuminated. Every single aspect of Syaoran was becoming a little clear, a little clean, and it was unveiling right before my eyes.  
Great, I was as self-conscious as every other girl I assumed.

So, what to wear, what to wear, _what to wear_?

Oh, Tomoyo-chan, how I wish you were here tossing clothes over my head and just about anywhere, yelling at me for being so lazy and letting you do it all, sneaking in sly and infuriating comments about what Syaoran and I will potentially do (and the answer is _no!_).

I really wish you were here.

The same meowing that had disrupted a many conversation before interrupted my one moment of solitude.  
I grabbed my phone from the drawer and if we lived reality according to Rihanna's lyrics, this moment would have been a fabulous example.

"Sakura, I miss you, I miss you, I MISS YOU!"

I must have been the only girl in the world, because someone had answered my wishes  
(once more).

"Ah, Tomoyo-chan, I need you, it's another…emergency" I whispered the last word, looking around for any eavesdropping ears.  
Silly me.

"Oh, right, right…ahem-_missyoutooTomoyo_-ahem, but anyway, what's up?" her words made my heart safe at home, a Tomoeda laced with conforming and loving folks.

I sighed, acknowledging Tomoyo's needs, "I _do_ miss you! Well, it's one of those emergencies, the one's you're really good at fixing, you know"

There was a silence following my reply, then a sudden 'Hmm'.

"…I get ya'" she finally answered, her dull reply aggravating me slightly.

"What do I wear!" and the impatience got the best of me, knowing time was totally not on my side…but whose fault is that, waking up late?

Tomoyo giggled lightly, and then proceeded to ask me what I had brought along.  
Pfft, what _hadn't_ I brought?

After seconds of rushed, albeit careful, clothing coordination, Tomoyo's tone took a turn of suspicion and signature curiosity.  
I think I knew where this was going.

"Neh, Sakura-chan, how are…_things_?"

"Things? What things? …I don't follow"

She coughed into the phone, replying, "Oh, you know, things"

I looked around me, the nerves preparing to consume me.  
"Things are a lot of everything, Tomoyo, you know that!" My laugh gave away the nerves.

"And what's _your_ everything right now, hmm?" I could hear her smirk, her signature smirk that I rightfully knew of for nearly all my life.

"My everything? Tomoyo, you're stupid"

"And you're hiding something from me!"

I sighed, looking for the time and realized it must have been God knows what time back in Tomoeda.  
Note to self; remember to buy Tomoyo an extra special souvenir for bothering to call me during her beauty sleep…but nothing too expensive.

It was still early in Milan.

"Okay, okay, things happened, things are…great" I mumbled the last adjective, hoping Tomoyo wouldn't ask for hours of gossip, or replays.

"I'm sure you know things are synonymous with Syaoran, right?"

"Oh, Tomoyo, stop…but yeah, I know, and _he_ really is great"  
I felt the puddle of foolish sentiments flow to my face, designing my lips.  
Is this okay? Being this happy at the slight mention of his name?

"Oh my God, you're totally melting right now, what happened?" her impatience was gone, a typical trait in Tomoyo that concerned only me.

"Ah, I'll tell you later, I really have to get ready, love ya', bye bye!" I quickly shut my cell phone, grabbing the outfit Tomoyo had suggested.

After seconds of clumsily putting on every layer of clothing, I dashed into the bathroom, washed my face and brushed my teeth.  
Alright, so I may have been a little backwards this morning, but I had been a little backwards most of my life where boys mattered.

Brushing my loose curls aside, I clipped my bangs back, a small red Hello Kitty hairclip adorning it, then applied a bit of that 60s styled eyeliner.  
A bit of red lipstick and I would be set for Milan. Of course, I was totally dressed for England, but whatever.

Reviewing the final outcome, I turned in front of the full length mirror. A granata red, white polka dotted dress that reached just above my knees, black tights underneath the dress (because it's only a bit cold), black boots, and my sapphire duffle jacket. I really owed Tomoyo for today, even if I appeared a little too mod for Italy.

As I turned the lights off in the bathroom, a knock alarmed me of outsiders beyond these walls.  
Rushing to the door, because the knock had been insisting for about five knocks now. Syaoran, I blame you for my sudden changes.

Upon opening the door, my heart might as well have been opened.

Syaoran stood in his black coat, his hands in its pockets, dark blue jeans and Yale blue vans. Why hadn't I noticed he was such a hipster where his attire was concerned? I know we're always in uniform, but if I recall correctly, I clearly remember him wearing black jeans, red converse and a Kid Cudi baseball t-shirt this one time I bumped into him at the mall.  
Sheesh, Syaoran just seemed to be getting cooler by the moment.  
_Anyway_, before you melt into another useless puddle at his feet…

"Ah, S-Syaoran! Um, if you're looking for Feimei, she just left, so – "

Another index finger shushed me. His finger didn't hold Shouta's delicate firmness.  
It held firmness on its own, a masculinity a bit hidden but unexpectedly appearing.

"I didn't come here for Feimei, Sakura" his simple smile held character, that tiny gesture proved a depth to his persona I had been digging into for several weeks now (after years of mutual negligence).

"Oh…then" I couldn't finish my sentence because I knew I would begin to blush, if I could more than I felt the unwelcomed visitor upon my face.

"I came here for you, baka" he grinned slightly, his eyes catching mine.

I looked directly at him and replied, "You're weird" walking back into my room for my purse, then walking right past him, but not without catching his hand with mine.

Our fingers were intertwined with a familiar sense of skin.  
His skin on my skin, and unlike any other comfort I had learned from childhood, there was a newfound comfort in holding his skin, just like being in my own.

"You're as grumpy as ever" his amused comment did nothing for my morning.  
Normally, I'd wake up to sunshine, the sunshine regular people knew of, you know, early birds compromised by nature's golden eye, a rendezvous for the regular.  
This morning, I woke up to my own sunshine.

"I'm not a morning person anymore" I mumbled, glancing at our hands.

"Oh, really, how is that?" his curiosity was thin.

I tugged on to his hand and fought the urge to spoil him away by saying,  
_I've seen the morning sunshine with you for twelve years of my life during school, I think I'd rather see the moonshine with you, I bet your eyes are just as pretty then_.

But I bit my lip and said, "I think I'd rather see the moonshine with you now"

Oh great, just great, Sakura! Now he's going to think you're some crazy weirdo fan girl who does nothing but stuff her mouth with strawberry pocky and read fan fiction regardless of its quality. Alright, so it's true, but he didn't have to know, not now, at least. He stopped walking, as we reached the elevator and turned to face me completely.  
I realized I wasn't alone because his cheeks were rosy, a color unbeknownst to his skin on this shade. I hoped his soul was smiling on the inside too.

"…You, you look really pretty, you know" he awkwardly spoke, his hand holding on tightly against mine, his eyes fidgeting with our morning.  
I really would like that moonshine on my sunshine.

"Thanks" I smiled brightly at him, hoping his nerves would ease, in turn, relaxing my own.

He shrugged and smirked, and with that very shrug, I knew our composure would return.  
A very calm composure fixed by a disposition of happiness that we knew of.

Once we reached the lobby, I felt his hand slip away from mine.  
Before us stood the remaining of our group, alongside a bright eyed Alberto and Emilio.

Their smiles were contagious, because soon I remembered the polite demeanor I was known for, so I've heard anyway. I bowed politely, but then realized we weren't in Japan anymore. Syaoran chuckled and extended his hand towards Emilio, as I mimicked and extended my own towards Alberto. They chuckled at my forgetfulness and returned the gesture, commenting on something beyond my knowledge. But I smiled and nodded.

Touya and Kouhei strolled along with Alberto and Emilio, and then I realized Yelan and my dad were nowhere to be seen.

"Touya, where's dad?" I asked after momentarily looking around. He shrugged and continued on speaking with Alberto, the man exchanged a short glance with me and smiled politely.

I felt like I knew someone in his smile.

"Well, apparently, your dad and my mom have already left for the press conference, Shouta and Feimei went out, not sure where, but I'm certain Feimei's out shopping"  
Syaoran sighed, having spoken with his older sister moments ago.

There was a formal spaced between us, but it was a requirement amongst the formal people around us. Truth be told, it was a strange comfort of mine.  
Warmth amongst wealthy strangers empowered by business and work…it was the people I knew as a child, people that kept me company when I needed it.

"_So_, then, should we get going?" Syaoran's question brought me back towards reality. Funny thing is, I should be here already. I should be grinning like an idiot by his side, aware of our surroundings, aware of his presence, because we like each other, right? Everything left behind in my lady daydream adventures shouldn't have to intervene…I mean, my daydream's standing right beside me, smiling like I should be too.  
_Oh, Sakura, you know your heart's much heavier than that_.

"Yeah! But um, don't we have to wait for the others?"

He replied my question with a small smile, as he motioned his head towards the entrance of the hotel where the rest were already exiting.  
I felt my lips form a sheepish smile, as he linked his arm with my own and dragged me along.

Two souls in one body, right Aristotle?

* * *

"Ms. Li, the BBC had an interest in adapting your book, have you come to a decision?"

"The theme of parting lovers is a very essential to the protagonist's thwarted ambitions, is there a reason her love interest completely disregarded this?"

"Do you plan on a sequel, if so; will the setting go back to New York?"

"Ms. Li, could you sign my book!"

Yelan's popularity had surprised me, I mean, I knew she was a wonderful writer (I added her to my 'Who I'd like to be like when I grow up' list, which I comprise of only the brilliance and steal some of it for my own), but I had no idea her book extended into Europe. I sighed.

"Your mom, she's really, really popular" I turned to look at Syaoran and noted the own surprise in his face and giggled.

"I know! It's really crazy, I mean, back home, she's _mom_ or annoying, here she's Ms. Li"  
he replied, his voice higher than it could have been.

"And Ms. Li holds a lot of power, what a name" I said, eyes latching on to Syaoran's.  
He looked happy. I felt happy, happier.

"I hope that makes me more significant in Europe"

I smiled because in my eyes, Syaoran was the most significant boy in all of Europe.  
And he would remain the apple of my eye back in Japan.  
All around the world and away we go, I'd like you always, Syaoran.

"Don't say such petty things, Syaoran" I playfully flicked his nose, as we remained seated in the conference room in which many cameras, journalists, publicists, fans, reporters, and etc. interviewed the unexpectedly graceful Yelan Li. The Li's did not cease to amaze me.

I looked amongst the radiance of Yelan, my father sat next to her, his performance smile never left his soft features, Alberto and Emilio sat next to him, sipping on water and allowing Yelan to answer most questions, was they not spoken in Chinese or Japanese, Kouhei assisted eloquently. They were a dream team, at least visually.

Alberto's eyes locked with mine once more. These glances were suddenly becoming inevitable, because there was a knowing face I knew in his mind, but I assumed under the impression that he was a man of importance. I knew nothing of him, nothing short of manners and small talk (and this was amongst Touya, Kouhei, Yelan and Fujitaka).

He smiled one last time before returning to his duties.  
My heart beat faster than ever.

"Hey, you okay?" Syaoran's attention grasped my hand, tugging for my well-being.

"Yeah, just fine" I whispered back, tugging his hand in return.  
I was, I really was just fine. My heart was scared though.

I felt his hand tremble a bit; I didn't think he had believed me.  
Oh, where do I get off thinking these things? Where do I get off feeling everything?  
I don't want to anymore, I just want to be happy with Syaoran, in Milan and London and Madrid and Glasgow, everywhere!  
Mother, you unsettle me so.

"Alright, there will be a short break, please allow Ms. Li a brief period of rest!"  
the announcer said, all word-craving spectators sighed and did as said.

Syaoran stood up and motioned me to follow, "I'm going to go check on my mom"  
I nodded but replied, "I'll be right back, just going to, um, yeah" and left him unanswered.

What the heck, Sakura? Quit leaving him hanging like that, you brat! _Bratty B, you_.  
But we're a couple, a couple ish couple, right? Almost there but not entirely complete, it's that transitional phase, the one I've heard so much about anyway.  
So all this awkwardness, the impolite uncertainty, just normal, right? Right, Sakura, _right_.

I exited the room; a conference room located in yet another extravagant hotel right at the center of Milan. T  
his city irked me to no end; the people irked me more than ever.  
I guess I just missed the complacent certainty of Tomoeda.

Not to mention the weather was totally freezing.

I walked around the hallway just outside the conference room, brushing my dress with my unreasonably agitated hands.  
The mystery that clouded Milan nerved me and the feelings of unknown sentiments frightened me too. The following voice frightened me.

"Ms. Kinomoto, it certainly has been a while, hm? "Eyes of clear emerald called.  
A sonata could have been composed in them.

Alberto Ricci stood against the mahogany door, smiling politely, but smiling in nostalgia.  
So he was familiar.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't really remember meeting, sir" I weakly smiled, apologizing for my mind's malfunction.  
But he chuckled and smiled, _again_.  
The familiarity never failed.

"Right, of course you wouldn't, you were only, oh, say about three, four?" he asked, disregarding my own ignorance.  
But he kept on going, "You certainly took after your mother"

Mother, you're of interest again. Normally, I would be happy, because no one ever takes interest in you, not even the demons you should have left behind, not a day after your funeral.

"Y-You knew my mother?" the nerves went beyond my voice; they were in my eyes and in my hands.  
They were all around the hallway but in the elegance of Alberto Ricci and his fluorescently dashed eyes.

He sighed, "Nearly all of Europe knew of Nadeshiko, I was her manager, though"

My heart nearly dropped. I nearly swore I saw tears flash across my eyes, ready to present a rather informal display of grief, my lips fumbled upon the mention of a total stranger reminiscing in the close companionship of my beloved mother.

No one thinks of you like I do, anymore, dear.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know, but it's great to hear this!"  
the happiness surpassed my voice as I extended my hands and shook his vigorously, because I needed his warmth.  
I didn't expect the urging caress of familiarity to shock me so intensely.  
I knew this man, I knew him before, and he was right.  
There was more to our eyes though.

He shook my hand with the same eagerness, perhaps in mocking gestures.

"You're happier than I would have imagined" Alberto chuckled; the chuckle illuminated his bright eyes, eyes I saw myself in.

"Of course! I mean, it's, it's a whole hassle, this subject of, well, you know"  
I trailed off, assuming this total stranger from the past knew of the Kinomoto's present Nadeshiko ignorance circumstance.

"Um, right…" his eyes displayed a confusion; pretense at its best.

"I'm sorry, it's just, well, my mom, her anniversary – "

"Yesterday…I know" he finished my sentence.

It was in this moment that I understood the magnitude of importance she may have been to others. I never notice because my father never notices. I never notice because Touya never notices. On the one morning where the sun shines beyond a doubt of death, no one noticed. And so I'm left alone noticing all these little things, all these simple things, or what was once simple. Mother, you were simple once. I was five and you were the greatest.  
It was as simple as that.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, in a sense, I'm just upset neither Touya nor my dad mentioned this"  
we ignored the tension external forces brought; I bothered with the lack of consideration my family knew of. Why does no one mention you?

"Oh well, I wouldn't expect them to" the way his words were arranged had not bothered me, it hadn't even peaked the least bit of curiosity.  
It was his voice and how he inched his words in an agitated manner. He must have been bothered.

"How was she?"

His middle-aged eyes smiled, the luminescent generosity served as the comfort I needed more than anything these past few days.

"She was a doll, the prettiest of them. There wasn't a single photograph she couldn't take. Every time we met up with a modeling agency, she'd freak out entirely, could barely speak throughout the conference, it cost us a few job offers, too. But, you know, she wasn't graceful, or delicate…she was always grumpy. Always fussing with her feelings, she really was such a girl. She did what she'd like, no one could tell her what to do, because she was always grumpy, I think it must have been about Touya, or you, missing you two. But Nadeshiko was always thinking, and I think that's what got her where she was. It got me where I am" he finished, his words pounding rhythmically in my heart.  
I felt like I had just run a marathon and that the entire city around me cheered me on as I crossed the finish line. Syaoran stood by the sidelines.

I also noticed Alberto's heart.

My cheeks were warm. The tears were wondering. Why can't you stop, hm?

"Sakura, they're about to start" Syaoran's voice lifted me.

Stop crying right now, he's calling you!  
I brushed the light tears gently. My eyeliner would not suffer through my sentiments.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ricci – "I bowed lightly, returning to the roots I reminded myself of every morning.  
The man of Italian delicacy and elegant age smiled lightly, cutting me off as he said, "You may call me Alberto, Sakura"

I nodded, understanding there was a bond beyond life between the two.

Turning, I realized Syaoran's expression frowned in concern.  
His eyes sunk in disappointment and his lips sulked in confusion.

"What did he tell you?" the accusation Syaoran sent me incited my irritation.

"Nothing, nothing at all, I'm just very unhappy" I grumbled and brushed past him.

I felt angry. No, you're not born this way; you don't always wake up upset. It was a collective sense of frustration. An aggravation I wanted to embrace, because no one ever said anything. Dad, Touya…where have you two been? Not today, all my life, you're there in a healthy fashion. You all lie in an unhealthy fashion. Tell me about mother; tell me all these things that a stranger just related in my own skin. Why the hell didn't I know she wasn't always that lovely model? Why wasn't I told she had her days of frustration, that she had the worst nerves amongst humanity, or that she thought about thinking all the time?

I brushed past the hallways and out into the lobby, brushing past insecurities today brought. But truthfully, it wasn't even about my insecurities.  
It was all the insecurities of life brushing past me; it was my father's insecurities and Touya's insecurities.  
Why else wouldn't they tell me?

"Sakura, wait!" I heard panting behind me, a calling for me.

I began to run. I started running out into the streets, past boutiques, past cafés.  
Every scent brushed past me, I didn't feel it. I didn't feel my legs running against today; I didn't feel my soul building a fortress around my heart once more. People break you all the time.

"Wait a minute, Sakura, stop!"

Who am I? The perfect school girl, the scholarship hungry girl, the Columbia University bound girl, the bright eyed girl, the clueless girl…clueless.  
You're idle to the world, Sakura, you're a transparent character who's been build on ideals. I've made myself.  
I wish you were here to change that.

"Sakura!"

Keep running.

"_Sakura!_"

Running.

"SAKURA!"

Keep panting and panting because my legs have given up.

I'm giving up right now. I'm giving up on Fujitaka, I'm giving up on Touya, I'm giving up on the single souls I swore I knew better. I'm giving up because they gave up on you.  
I don't even want to be perfect anymore.

A hand warmed my shoulder, a strong hand, a love of sorts I hadn't felt in a while.  
The rough surfaces softened my sprint, softened my erratic heartbeat.

"You're too…athletic…" Syaoran spoke between breaths, his hand clutching on to my shoulder. Our eyes looked away from any confrontation.  
Mostly because I knew I would cry, again.

I didn't say anything for fear of spilling the entire Pacific Coast.

"Why are you running from me?"  
Syaoran's eyebrows were furrowed together, his ginger eyes tried reasoning with my own.  
I gave up.

"I'm really sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what to tell you but everything, _again_. This has nothing to do with you, you…you're you, Syaoran, and that's all I need. This…it's something of my own, it's something I need to fix, you can't do anything" I released my breath and began to cry. I sobbed into my palms, hoping to collect every tear and toss them out into the sea, where all tears should rest. I hoped too much.

Almost immediately, I felt the sweet nectarine of Syaoran's arms around me.  
It was by nature that I should melt into his existence, because there was no other presence for me.

"I'm not expecting to _fix_ everything, or anything…no one can guarantee you that, nobody can. I'd be a liar if I told you everything is going to be alright, but truthfully, I know things will be alright with you, it _will_ be. I also know that my help won't help, but tell me something I can't do, and I'll do it" his quiet voice soothed the injuries.  
His words were beside mine, his heart was beside mine. He rested his forehead against mine.  
His lips were beside mine.

I sniffled in lighter sentiments now.  
I replied softly, "You, you can't stay with me, because I trust you"

"I'll be with you" his breath enveloped me.

"You can't say things you won't mean, Syaoran"

"I'll only say things I want"

I paused to look for his eyes. They were of ginger today. They were of reality.

"You can't" I repeated.

"There's more to life than meanings, I don't want to define anything for you"

They weren't words of hurt. They were words of honesty. He did as he pleased.

"Then define things with me" I meekly requested.  
It was a small request that granted me the sweetest thing.

"Fine, just tell me I can't kiss you"

The blush revolted upon my countenance, I felt every misery of Milan disperse, and nothing was left of the ugly roots my life embraced.  
At least nothing I should cry for.

"Syaoran…" I playfully groaned, giggling quietly.

"Sakur_aaa_" he impatiently replied.

There was a simple silence in the streets of Milan. I couldn't feel the sidewalk we stood on.  
The people were invisible. The cold weather was hiding. Reality disappeared.

"You can't kiss me, Syaoran"

* * *

"Look at you; you should have worn your jacket!"

"Me? You're the one I had to run after!"

"I know" I smiled because it was true.

Leaning in, I granted Syaoran a small kiss on his red cheek. We were in his hotel room, well, his shared room.  
His eyes were dazed and his nose was runny.  
It wouldn't be long before he woke up sporting a fever.

Despite his adorable appearance, I couldn't help but sink in the guilt. I didn't _have_ to run out on him. My feelings did.  
I didn't _have_ to keep running after he called my name. My heart did. I didn't _have_ to go hunting for a café. My stomach did.

But because all of this occurred, Syaoran sat beneath his covers in bed on a lovely, chilly Milan evening. I had given him about a million apologies, but he had none of it.  
He didn't seem to care that he was sick because of me. He seemed to be enjoying all the special treatments anyway.

"Hey, Sakura…you really should talk to your dad about it, if not at least your brother"  
I had explained it all to Syaoran, every detail.

So, he resumed reality, the real reality, you know, the one that crushes your insides because you're afraid of fixing your life.  
It's ridiculous, but the outcome frightens me the most. Even more than the proximity of Syaoran and me, momentarily.

"I should…" I sighed, getting up from his bed as I paced about the room.  
But how do you approach the subject? I've had to approach many subjects, many arguments in over a hundred essays. I always found my way around sentiments and science, but when it came to speaking, voicing out whatever I had learned today, voicing out whatever I had collected for twelve years…it could crush me.

"I mean it, Sakura; it's the only way you'll move on"

And he was persistent about this. But it only made me smile.

"I will" I spoke after my hesitance and realized I _would_.

Syaoran smiled gently and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him. I kneeled beside his bed and rested my forehead against his shoulder.  
The simple contact resulted in great comfort. Every simple thing I thought about Syaoran resulted in great comfort.  
It was more than comfort.

"You should go, the dinner will start in a couple minutes"  
he finally said, knowing he had to rest because he really wanted to.

"Right, I'll bring some leftovers after, 'kay?"

He nodded once and I turned for the door as I waved back.

These feelings Syaoran incited were sentiments I could not have related to months ago. I probably wouldn't be able to see Syaoran in the eyes of today. Timing was everything.

Eternal sunshine, please don't abandon me, even when you shine too brightly, stay with me,  
Syaoran.

I walked towards the lobby and was greeted by Touya, Feimei and Shouta. I assumed the business roles had gone ahead of us, as usual.  
I was relieved not to see my dad, in a way.

"Where's that kid?" Touya referred to Syaoran, and it had been mentioned so many times, it hardly fazed me whatsoever.

"He's feeling a little sick" I sighed, aware of the knowing smiles Feimei sent me.  
I smiled right back.

"Great, let's go" Shouta grunted, walking ahead of the rest of us.  
It may have been selfish of me wanting to remain friends with him.

"You three go on ahead, I think I'm going to stay and check up on Syaoran" Feimei's sibling instincts reminded me of Touya as a kid, when he was more human.  
Her words took me back to the days of warm milk and honey. The days when Touya stayed up with me until my eyes admitted defeat. He would hold my hand until it loosened its grip.  
I love him very much. And it is a universal conclusion that I've come to, in which people you love very much will hurt you each and every day.

"Alright" I smiled at her, hoping to convey all these thoughts.  
She smiled right back.

"Well, come on Sakura, I think Shouta's got us a cab already" Touya said, looking out into the entrance of the hotel. A small yellow taxi cab stood beside Shouta.  
Despite all our happening events, Shouta still maintained his polite consideration for others. It was a quality I admired, one I wished by my side through friendship.

"Touya…can we talk later?"

He picked up the severity. "Mhm"

I couldn't confront my father. I sat, dumbfounded, enamored by the magnificent illuminations of the restaurant. Enamored by the flawless Italian speaks of Alberto, awed by the beautiful people all around us, in faultless admiration through Milan. Shouta and I exchanged words, stiff words, but words nonetheless. He smiled, more than once, he laughed, more than once and he looked me in the eye when he thought I was lost.  
These were the undertones I searched for.

But now I sat on a bench outside our hotel. Father had rushed out of my eyes before I managed to build up any courage.  
He had been rushing too much. Alberto only exchanged forgiving glances with me; he smiled politely, resting upon his middle-aged wisdom.  
Everyone danced in their own world while I gasped in my own sentiments.

"What did you want to talk about, hm?" Touya appeared, tugging on to his coat.

I looked up and motioned for him to sit beside me. When he didn't, I insisted, "Sit".

His long legs gave up and he found rest beside me. We sat in silence for long.

"Can't we talk in the lobby? It's freezing" he grumbled, shivering as he tugged on to his body, attempting for some substantial warmth.

"No, I like the cold" I lied, but I figured if we remained outside dealing with a heavy matter, I would be too cold to feel more than I should.  
That was my logic, anyway.

He sighed and urged me to continue, "Well, hurry up"

I looked around, preparing my eyes for any incoming interruptions.  
I wouldn't cry. I promised.

"Touya…why didn't you guys tell me Alberto knew my mom?"

It may have been the weather, but Touya froze. His eyes were still, his lips were sealed, and every piece of evidence vanished from his face.  
It unsettled me more than ever. I wanted to punch his face, just so it could move. I wanted to kick his feet, just so he could move.

"What are you talking about?" I heard his pretense; I felt anger consume my features.

"Look, please, for me, or for anything you care about, tell me what you know…because I know everything" my voice gave away my nerves, as usual.

"Sakura, whatever he told you, it's probably not true, so – "

"Tell me what he told me then, Touya"

I decided against fear. I looked into his eyes, not a single speck of mine wavered.  
I remained strong, at least to the naked eye, because I was tired of the clothing.

"Sakura…" he let out in an exhale, softness in his dark eyes I never knew.  
I began to worry and my heart began to revolt.

"Please, Touya…tell me what he told me" I repeated firmly.

After a moment of indecision, Touya broke down.  
His heart must have been heavy too.

"Look, Sakura, she didn't mean to. None of it, none of it had meaning, okay? What happened…what happened with them, it's not for us, it's for their past, alright? Don't worry about it, it doesn't even matter anymore, mom's gone and it would be completely useless to try fixing anything. Just – "

What? What was _he_ talking about? Them? I couldn't contain anymore of my composure, because I was told one thing but then explained another.  
I felt my heart thud in the suspense of what I feared; the suspense of what my mind begrudgingly assumed.  
Please, reality, stop this…_please_.

"W-Wait, what?" my stammer let him know I was lost.  
I needed to be found.

"Ugh, never mind, Sakura, it's not important anymore" he stood and commenced his return.  
But I caught on to his coat and pulled him back, aggression bordering my actions.

"Touya, you're telling me everything!" I grumbled, not nearly shouting.  
I wasn't so sure how much I wanted to know.

He looked defeated against my plea.  
It was to my advantage that Touya should have a sensitive spot for his younger sister…

I stood up by his side and grabbed a hold of his hand. I squeezed as comfortably as I could and realized I had felt a similar feeling once. I was nine, the day invited summer and everyone I knew existed at the amusement park for the day. Tomoyo had recently gotten a bobbed hair cut and she had cried for nearly three hours, my hair had ribbons, pink ribbons. They were my mother's favorite. Tomoyo begged me to ride the new attraction with her, a newly installed roller coaster that deemed grand intensity. It also had one of the steepest drops in all of Japan. And it was that same feeling of reaching the top and looking down, that same feeling that held my heart captive until we dropped. And I cried.

"That man…he was her lover. They met every time she had a photo-shoot in Europe. They had been like that before you were born, before I was born too. Sakura, if I tell you the truth, because this is just the surface…dad, you won't think of him like you want to"

My heart cracked. Not only because the lady I admired for the loveliest years of my life loved too much, but because nothing was simple anymore. I didn't have the simple tragedy I blamed a hapless destiny for. My mother didn't die a perfect fashion model. She didn't die a perfect wife. She didn't die just like that. Dad made up pretty lies though.

I felt a knot in my throat, suffocating all the ideals I missed my mother in.  
I missed her because she was beautiful, wonderful, loving, playful, silly, caring, and careless. I didn't miss her because she loved another man.  
I didn't miss her because she lied.  
But there was more.

"Everything, Touya…_everything_" my voice cracked.

He glanced into the busy streets and sat down, pulling me with him. He kept his grip around my hand.  
Maybe if my hand couldn't escape his grip, the tears couldn't escape my eyes.  
Good thinking, Touya.

His lips began to fumble. His eyes began to dance in the past.

_Oh God, my heart is beating my mind up.__  
__  
_

* * *

Ah, super cheesiness between Sakura and Syaoran again! Oh well, TAKE IT.  
Ahem, so, there you go, feedback would be really appreciated, thank you :3


	10. This Is Real

Alright so, the last chapter had some mixed reviews - some good, some bad, some in-between. But overall, I'm glad you enjoyed it :)  
Apparently, it was TOO cheesy, and I apologize, but it's a little difficult to completely disregard my useless romantic soul (bah).  
So, in attempts to dilute some of the cheesiness (because it will be present), I've made most of it on Syaoran's part...since he's the guy and it's "normal" for guys to do that, you know.

Anyway, I'm sure some of you can guess what's going to happen. So here is chapter ten, I'm afraid it might be a little confusing, but please cope with me, I've been overly stressed these past couple of weeks. I resent college. I wish I could just write and become some fancy author or poet (but no one cares about poetry anymore). Sorry, I had to vent a little :3 lol.  
But I'm fine, nothing serious.

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

* * *

"_Mmm, someone's going to see!" words were mumbled against another set of lips, pressed lightly in the mannerisms of fickle infatuation. _

"_Oh, you say that all the time" a hushed, deep voice replied, pushing small ivory arms beneath his rough tan hands.  
He took in the tangles of the young woman's hair, suspended in the feelings of life. The man thinks to love the young woman. _

"_Because one day someone will see!" the lady squealed much like she used to, her back against the elevator's wall, her hands tucked in the man's pockets. She liked the impulsivity on his disposition. Nadeshiko had been born free in her heart, she organized days in which she spent loathing the neatness and structure of reality. She liked being messy when she was born neat._

"_Aren't you funny" the man smiled against her forehead as he kissed her tenderly before standing by her side.  
He kept his hand with hers; his lightly tan skin warmed her ivory tones._

"_Of course, Alberto, you tell me all the time" Nadeshiko softly rebutted, tucking in a strand of frizzed curls behind her ear.  
She hardly ever cut her hair, and she hardly ever straightened it, because she knew nature grew up with her much lovelier than anything else. _

"_Hey, kitten; you notice how the Jap was lookin' at you?" _

_Nadeshiko pinched Alberto's toned arm, reminding him of a politically correct life._

"_Alberto! It's Japanese, and no, I was too busy" she hummed the last part of her words, twirling with the ends of her hair.  
The elevator came to a halt, revealing the lobby of an elegant hotel. The lights demanded such elegance. _

"_You should talk to him, you might end up liking him" he teased her night and day, but he meant it. _

_Nadeshiko rolled her eyes and walked out ahead of Alberto. They were an interesting pair.  
Nadeshiko Amamiya was his flower, Alberto Ricci always stood beside her. And it was the right thing; he was a recognized name in the modeling industry.  
He had an eye for beauty. _

_But as the years rolled on by, he became Nadeshiko's exclusive manager. _

_The two walked in the comfortable silence their downtown London afternoon gave way to, even with all strangers.  
They were not hand in hand._

"_Remember not to giggle so much next time, it's alright for ELLE but not for VOGUE"_

"_Got it" she nodded at his formal advice, her hands hating their current existence.  
The existence of a passion she slept in took up much of her sentiments. But she also loved to sleep._

_They arrived at their loft in less than fifteen minutes, most of the bustling crowds around them dispersed at Nadeshiko's grace.  
She was rumored as London's lovely lady, after all._

_Once the doors to their home opened, Nadeshiko struggled in the frustration of unrequited love, for the night, openly.  
She dropped her purse on their white leather couch and furrowed her eyebrows with determination. _

"_Alberto, can I ask you something?" _

_He didn't bother looking at her, he didn't bother wondering. _

"_Kitten, please don't start" he sighed, reposing against the comfort of their living room.  
He never liked confrontations; he never was a boy to label his binders in school.  
He didn't like the feeling of words against his skin, nor did he ever fill out a 'Hello, my name is: '_'. _

"_I have to, Alberto! Or else who will, you? You…you never do" the flower's voice wilted, once more invited by winter's reality. Nadeshiko was not foolish.  
She was, though, a fool during the summer. _

"_Because we're fine the way we are!" he grumbled as he brushed his dark hair back with his hand, his eyes concentrated on the solution eyelids bring. _

"_No, I'm not, what if, what if I wake up and fall in love with someone else, hm? What if I'm at a park and fall in love with someone else? I need to know that you're here for me…verbally as much as we are physically, really, I mean…what are we?" Nadeshiko's emerald eyes flustered in the heartache she had been pending upon for nearly a year. _

_Alberto closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, he groaned and fumbled on the correct phrasing of his next words. _

"_Nadeshiko, you're allowed to fall in love with whoever you want. I don't want to be the one to retain you from anything. I don't want you to stop living because of a simple title. You don't need it, hell, I never needed it. You're free to do as you please, we agreed on it, remember?" his words gave her nothing new, nothing she didn't know.  
But they were accumulated much too long, it wouldn't be long before she fell in too deep, before she hit the bottom of it all. At the bottom of everything, she would stop dreaming. _

"_But I am. I'm everything you said. I'm free and I'm in love with who I want…aren't you?" _

_And that's where it all tumbled towards. They weren't one; they were two individuals in love with separate ideals.  
She fell for the universe in her heart; he fell for the constellations of life. But they fell together, somewhere. _

_He looked at her with eyes that could no longer be disguised.  
The broken apathy that hindered his eyes broke, and when Nadeshiko glanced into his eyes one last time before storming out, she knew of everything.  
His everything did not include her._

_She returned minutes later. Their love was a violent routine._

_

* * *

_"I don't want to leave without you!" Sakura grumbled, pouting childishly, at my unexpected inconvenience.  
It wasn't in any of my plans to drop dead in the middle of our vacation.  
But I'm sure nothing that's happened so far was a part of any of our plans.

I gave her an apologetic smile, mustering as much energy as my fever allowed.  
"I'm really sorry, but I'm pretty sure you'll get bored if you stay"

She looked around the room, aware that I was more right than wrong. Sakura was stronger than the tears had deceived me.  
She was somebody's daughter. And this she knew of now. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

But her eyes were the easier to read than Dr. Seuss.

"It's fine" she smiled politely, ignoring the longing I noticed lingering in her eyes.  
She tugged on my hand, grasping on to one of the few concrete ideas in her present life.

I tugged back, feeling the nerves warming up her day.

"Sakura, how are you?"

She blinked several times pretending in the element of surprise.

"I'm fine…yeah; it's easier knowing, right?" the way her words were meekly asked unsettled my mind.  
I could have answered her honestly, and what I would have done, and who I would have confronted, what I would have wanted to know. I could give her all that.

"Yeah…you have every right to"  
But she wanted simplicity. She knew, but feigned indifference.

Grabbing her white duffle coat, she smiled one last time before bidding me goodbye.

It was assumed that Sakura had been born through resentment.  
But it was believed that she had a happy childhood, where her mother's death only caused her a month's worth of tears during November. She believed Fujitaka was not a stranger.

I think our beliefs were wrong once more.

* * *

"Our last day in Milan, you better take advantage of this, Sakura-chan!" Feimei winked at me, indicating my newfound relationship with her brother.  
I couldn't help but smile.

I also couldn't help but ignore Touya for most of the taxi ride. He sat at the passenger seat, which saved from any awkward eye contact. I couldn't explain anything, not today. Not last night, not when I hadn't seen my father all day or all night. My palms had experienced a surrender of hope. The freckles in my mind held a consistency of all the scattered lies I had assumed for most of my life. When I would say, 'daddy' or 'otou-san', I could have been referring to much more than the man I admired in my childhood. I didn't want to know.

"Hey, you okay?" Shouta's sudden whispered concern hit me momentarily.  
I had forgotten others existed with me right now.

All I could respond with was a simple nod, and a half-assed smile, one of Syaoran's old smiles.

He puckered his lips delicately but returned to the window sighting when we felt Touya's fleeting glance on our own.  
I think we were all just nervous individuals deep down.

"Here you are, Parco Sempione!" our driver chirped, contrasting too greatly with the cloud of depressed sentiments that hung above our troubled minds.  
We had too many stories.

"Thank you" Touya politely spoke as he handed the estimated currency.

Free days were designated for Milan's beauty in nature.  
We stood in one of Milan's loveliest parks on our free day, and I couldn't muster a single genuine smile that did not give away everything I felt.

Feimei sighed as she stretched once out of the cab, breathing in the scenery at her feet. She never looked to enjoy nature, but girls like her never looked to stereotypes.  
I could never tell with her eccentric manners and selfishly pleasant characteristics.

"Neh, Touya-kun, would you mind the tiniest bit if you bought me an ice cream cone?" the sly perkiness in her tones could not have translated into flirtatious intents.  
Feimei sounded like a mere child. I knew Touya too well. He said yes in my mind before anything.

The two left Shouta and I to dwell in the presence of what two rejections had created.  
Awkwardness.

We looked at one another and mirrored the exact same awkward and weak grin. We had nowhere to go but up, and with that thought I commenced our steps through Parco Sempione. He followed, his steps reminding me of our first walk through our Engineering building at school. His steps no longer sunk in my heart. His footprints had disappeared.

I looked past my 60s-inspired bangs for the day and brushed a couple of strands behind my ear.  
My bravery would have astounded me on any other day where I should have fallen in love with Shouta.

"How's Milan working out for you?"

He snapped into reality, I could tell, because his eyes lit up in the engagement of words.  
I remembered how much he liked words too.

"Not bad, I managed to get two numbers yesterday" he winked, deteriorating the vulnerable Shouta I had encountered upon Syaoran's awakening.

I laughed lightly, returning to the sunshine reality disrupted.

"Sounds like you"

He grinned, more than anything, in resentment and said, "I was kidding"  
And that sounded more like him.

I never knew Shouta to pay girls much attention.  
I knew Shouta to be modest and understanding, but I also discovered Shouta to be playful and cheeky, much like a bishounen character. I still admired that, truthfully.

"And you? I bet you've had more luck" he asked, smiling, allowing a bit of his rue sentiments to manipulate our walk.

I kept walking but my heart stopped. My hands relived the previous nerves of last night, (surprisingly) dry-eyed and in fragile disbelief. Not a tear emerged from my eyes, not a complaint left my lips…I didn't demand to speak to my dad, whoever that was. I didn't miss my mother as much.  
I didn't feel, and I didn't want to feel. No one asked me to feel so much at once.

"Luck…well, it's there, on occasion" I replied, smiling though letting Shouta know I wasn't pretending.

"Yeah, I remember" he sighed, not lamenting anything, not complaining about our thin relationship, just sighing because he had not slept much the night before.

We found a bench to sit on, tidy in the fairy tale blue paint Milan's murky sky envied.  
I felt safe upon the chirpy colored seat. I had found my piece of tranquility and life beneath a dusty, dun roof, a clouded surface suffocating my heart.  
I would reach for my universe.

Silence resumed our conversation, sinking its teeth uninvited and selfishly. But we let it happen; unaware of the words we had missed, but aware of the words that had to be forgotten. My eyes searched for his, hoping for words of interest. I wondered what he thought about when we decided a friend was all we'd ever be. I wondered what he had been up to for the past two days. I wondered if he knew I was wondering about him.

"Ugh, st_oooooo_p" he grumbled, leaning his forehead on to his hand. He closed his eyes and hid behind his hand.  
Crumbling his bangs with his fingers, he kept his lips tight, suppressing an explanation for his sudden complaint.

I felt confused in his sudden plea and asked, "What? What's wrong?"

I looked around me hoping to pinpoint a culprit. He did it much sooner as I looked closely at his frustrated features.

"Just stop! You're looking and it doesn't help" Shouta's mumbled words intending clarification but caused much more confusion. It doesn't help what?

"I'm sorry? I…I'll um, look elsewhere?" I hesitated in whatever he may have wanted.

He finally looked up; a small blush sprawled across his cheeks, a frown etched on his lips.  
There was an uncomfortable frustration resting on his countenance.

"You're just too _cute_" without a single warning, Shouta's hands invaded my face, stretching my cheeks lightly and pressing his delicate fingers into my skin.  
I memorized the contrast of another boy's hands.

"Hoe, it hurts!" I yelled after too much persistence in his fingers.  
As he let go, I rubbed my cheeks, aching in the touch of another boy, an unexpected one.

He looked away and mumbled an apology, stretching as he pretended or assumed thought to invade his mind.  
His hands became useless.

I laughed before silence arrived.  
I laughed lightly, I laughed hesitantly, and I laughed loudly.

He looked towards me, his eyes concentrated in frustration, desperation to know the reason for my sudden mirth.  
I wanted to know the same.

"What? Whaaaat? What's so funny? Hey, hey, stop it!" he whined like a child, allowing me more of a reason to continue.  
His eyes were flustered; his fists were touched by embarrassment. I don't think Shouta's ever been embarrassment before me.

I swallowed my final laughter and cleared my throat.

"You're different now, you know" I said.

He lifted an eyebrow at my questionable observation.  
I had him.

"_How_?"

I smiled at the sky knowing it would cry soon. I patted my pastel pink corduroy pants and looked towards the tears that would soon approach us, smiling at the fact that they were not my responsibility. I hadn't cried in nearly a day. It sure was a wonderful day.

"Well, don't get offended but, you're always so…so, hmm, oh! You're always really careful, with everything.  
All these years of knowing you and this is the first time I've seen you get so annoyed, it's refreshing" my explanation seemed to have eased him.

"Refreshing enough to make you change your mind about Syaoran?" and his persistence did not fail our afternoon.  
I stiffened at our old situation.

"Shouta…" I grumbled, lifting an eyebrow at his absurdity.

"Sorry, sorry! You just, well, you make it really hard for me, you know. I mean, you're all, err, you!" his flustered words emerged in my heart, a consideration was born.

"I'm all me?" I had thought these words with a certain messy haired boy.

"Yeah, all…everything, seriously, just wear a paper bag over your head" he mumbled, turning away from my eyes.  
His arms were crossed against his chest and his lips formed a small pout, taking in all the embarrassment. _Too bishounen_.

"Well, gee, thanks" I laughed, showing a tinge of sarcasm.

"No, no, not like _that_! I meant, well…you're all pretty. It's hard not to like you"

Internally, I bowed at his compliment, knowing Shouta had great tastes in a lot of things.  
This must have been a good sign to my physical. But that was about it.

"So you liked me because I'm pretty?"

He mumbled more notes to himself, immediately replying, "No! It's like, ugh, well, you know"

I nodded slowly, understanding but not fully grasping whatever concept he was attempting to explain.  
But I felt the unfairness of our conversation.

"Let's just…"

"Yeah, just, uh, sorry" his apology flashed by me, because he had nothing grave to be sorry for.

I looked up and brightened at the abrupt spark of enlightenment I processed.

"What if I do this?" I searched into my purse, took out the clear tape that always came in handy, grabbed a strand of my hair and taped it across my upper lip.  
Ta-dah! Mustache to-go.

"Okay, one, you have the prettiest mustache I've ever seen, and two, why do you have tape in your bag?" Shouta's eyes swam in confusion.  
Our questions never ceased.

I caressed my makeshift mustache and innocently looked around.

"It's called being prepared, duh. This is exactly why you're not valedictorian"  
the haughtiness in my voice was in pretense, and he sensed it.

He laughed a bit and went back to his comfortable silence.

"Why do you like him?"

This question surprised me, though it was the second time.  
I didn't know if to be in love was to answer honestly and openly, fearless of all judgment, or to keep it to myself, guarded as a sacred secret, safe from all prying hands.

"Why else…" I smiled at my hands, remembering Syaoran's tingling warmth.

"Why else?" he titled his head to the side, impatience directing his words.

I beamed him a carefree smile, knowing a careless smile would irritate him.

"He's more than I want him to be"

"Isn't that bad? He could be some creep, you wouldn't want that"

I laughed, rejoicing in the words that could, in life, hold some truth.

"Well, he isn't. And if he is, that says a whole lot about me for liking him"

The happiness that took control seemed to have defeated his persuasion.  
He leaned back into the bench and rested his head against it.

"Maybe I should try getting some numbers…" he trailed off.

I stood up and walked towards a nearby tree, acknowledging all the other strangers.

"You've got one more day to catch that Roman fever" I smiled, pleasant at the afternoon clouding above me.  
Maybe happiness arrived on cloudy days, where you had to fight against the murky skies to reach that happy universe.  
My happy days were beyond my momentary sentiments, and they certainly were beyond my circumstance.

"Roman fever, I thought that was only for girls?"

"Is it?" I airily asked, not bothering to learn for today.

"I think, Daisy Miller was the one that caught it, remember?" his literary tongue reminded me of Europe, suddenly.

"Oh, come on, Shouta, let's go do something!"  
I pulled on his coat and dragged him along, certainly not wanting to spend my last Milan afternoon sitting on a bench discussing Henry James...however tempting that was.

* * *

"Oh my God, you should've seen her; I can't believe you missed it!"

"Ah, I know! But I was paying and then by the time I turned around –"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, oh well, maybe another time"

"Right, because it's only every day you get to see Natalie Portman in person"

I heard a small smile after the much dreaded conversation.

"You never know. Alright, well, I'll see ya' tomorrow, Shouta!"

The sound of Sakura's steps neared my room, with each and every step I feared for the worst. Am I really such a jealous guy?  
I know, it wasn't written in any of my plans for me to get sick, of course, I would have preferred to explore Milan once more before leaving with Sakura.  
But nowhere did I write Shouta laughing along with Sakura, absolutely nowhere.

I also knew that I didn't _dislike_ Shouta. I would have been feeling this way if any other boy accompanied her in a foreign country.  
It's that lost feeling of never having lived for the moment.  
Good enough, Nicki Minaj?

"Neh, Syaoran, can I come in?" I heard Sakura's soft knock reminding me of her sweetness.  
She would have had more fun with me, of course.

"Uh, yeah, come in" I gruffly replied, sitting up from my resting position, certainly having recovered from my early fever daze.  
And damn it, I'd show her plenty more laughs than she may have thought to experience with prince charming.  
Again, the guy's alright.

"Oh, well, you look better! I hope the warm honey and milk tea worked?" her words were wrapped in worriment and hopeful tones.  
I could have sworn I heard Best Coast in one of her smiles.

"A lot, actually" I smiled, looking down, a small sense of insecurity evading my countenance. It was just an insignificant moment, you know, one of those where the girl you like is out and about with some other guy, and it's just a friendship, but it doesn't help when the guy likes her…get me?  
Whatever, I just needed to see you.

"Good, I didn't want you entirely sick on our last day here, I wish we could have spent it together" and it was that fleeting frown that directed me towards my drawers and out of my shirt…with Sakura in the room.

"H-Hey, Syaoran! W-What are you doing?" her stammers felt like childish melodies echoing in my heart.  
I gained a healthy sense of confidence in knowing I made her as nervous as she made me. Although…any sudden exposure of foreign skin would make one uneasy.

"Who says we're not going to spend it together? You craaazy" I playfully said, putting on a Vampire Weekend t-shirt, as I turned to glance at Sakura.  
Her pretty eyes were covered by her hands, like a child told do so during a heavy sex scene in a movie. It dawned on me how curious and innocent her eyes were.  
There was still a surreal sense of inexplicability in our mutual acceptance. I didn't mind it one bit, because I wasn't dreaming.

"No, I'm a-cuckoo" she beamed a smile upon my fully covered skin, falling into another musical reference.  
Our melodies through words never bored me.

"Speaking of which, did you hear about that Belle & Sebastian writing contest?"  
I said this because I wanted to impress her, truthfully, I didn't know all that many songs.  
I spent a couple of nights listening to _If You're Feeling Sinister_ and felt somewhat closer to the girl, not in a creepy way.  
There were lyrics I found fond in Sakura's heart without even doubting it one bit.

"You knew about that? Oh, I wanted to enter so badly, but well, you know, writing 300 words about love isn't exactly the topic I wanted to cover at the time" she sheepishly smiled, looking down at her boots, turning back just in time to see me put on my red Converse. I stood up by her side; realizing 300 words could never be enough.

"Well, I think you would have won" she looked at me, a marvel in her eyes transcending in mine.  
A peculiar feeling, being by your side and everything, Sakura, isn't it?

I extended my hand next to hers, feeling a sense of comfort just being near.  
She accepted and we walked into the hall and on our way to the elevator.

"So, how was your day?" I had to ask. If in any way I would overcome any unbecoming, potential jealousy issues, it would be through casual conversation.

She pondered shortly, pressing her index finger on to her lips.

"It was really nice, we went to Parco Sempione, it's such a lovely place, and the people there are very welcoming! Oh, and after, we went to this cute, little café, and just guess who we saw? Guess!" Sakura glowed with enthusiasm in the mere retelling of her day.  
Fuck off, jealousy.

"Hm, well let's see, just a shot in the dark, but, Natalie Portman?"  
I have ears, you know, and you two were pretty loud.

Emerald eyes widened like the childish life she grew in, in minor disbelief, Sakura replied,  
"What, how'd you know? Where you following us, hm?" she elbowed me gently, winking rather suggestively. I laughed at her silly impersonation of whatever she was trying.

"Why would I follow you if I could actually spend the day with you? Duh!" I flicked her forehead, as we entered the elevator.

"Whatever" she giggled, holding on tighter to my hand. I didn't mind.

"So…you're okay?" my words referred to the reality of Sakura _Kinomoto_.

Her hands shook a bit, and she hesitated when she nodded.

_I just nod; I've never been so good at shaking hands._

"You can tell me, you know that" I urged on my worry, because I knew Sakura held on to feelings even when they should have expired.  
And then, they'd rot in her, leaving a miserable scent of desperation rushing past the gates caging in her heart.

Words weren't spoken. Sakura leaned her head on my shoulder, and at that moment, the elevator doors revealed the polished man of Milan.  
Sakura's grip tightened on my hand.

_Suffocation_.

"Ms. Kinomoto, Mr. Li" bright eyes connected with bright eyes.  
I was an outsider.

Alberto nodded at our appearance, the manners never leaving his mind.  
Sakura stood by me, her eyes peeled away from all her pretended barriers.  
Something told me she wasn't ready for anyone just yet…

"Evening, Mr. Ricci" I gruffly replied, my voice heavy in the uneasiness Sakura's hands transferred on to my own. I looked at the man and didn't know how to feel.  
Aside from not feeling anything in stability, I felt pity for him. He had a beautiful daughter and he didn't seem to care. He could have had a brighter future and he didn't seem to notice.

* * *

"_I hear you're getting married" _

_Nadeshiko's luscious locks swam along every ghost's whisper. She leaned against the balcony, careless of the danger her physical could encounter.  
She just didn't care like she used to._

"_You hear right" her lips smiled in reprisal happiness, she wanted to be wanted, so Nadeshiko did crazy things. _

_Alberto smiled, though his smile consisted of a sadness beyond his own comprehension, he let it all go.  
He always did. He knew holding on to feelings and titles made one bitter.  
Alberto didn't like growing up; she wanted to grow old. _

"_That's good, you need it" his words intended their playful nature of younger days._

"_Oh, I need it? I don't need anything, you made it clear" her arms stretched against the balcony, her white summer dress swallowing her ivory skin, nearly eloping in the afterlife.  
She would disappear from his life soon, after all. _

"_You don't. All the nonsense The Beatles sang about, all those poems, all that make-believe, you don't need it. Marriage will do for you" Alberto plainly stated, leaning against the wooden doors concealing the cream balcony in his lovely Tuscany villa. His dark curls were painted against the wind's brush, highlighting his handsome features.  
For Nadeshiko, it was love at first sight._

"_You're as unbelievable as ever, using excuses like that"  
Nadeshiko titled her head to the side and glumly granted a smile to the man she loved with every inch of reality and 'make-believe' she knew. _

"_They're not excuses. It's what's real, and really, I am happy for you" he turned to open the wooden doors, leaving his ivory angel behind. She was a light of his life he could not afford.  
She wanted everything, he didn't have a thing. He had a marvelous villa, plenty of recognition, people at his charming disposition. But he was an empty child, an empty boy and an empty man. _

_Before he left her sight, Nadeshiko grasped on to his button-up long-sleeve shirt, touching what she never thought to touch again.  
"Why do you let me do this? I love you; I have for such a long time…why don't you say it? You love me too, don't you?" tears broke the silence Nadeshiko's words constrained.  
She was lonely._

_And it was a truth marriage was at her disposal. He was a businessman from Japan simply vacationing in Italy, wanting to brush away all the stress that leeched on to his back.  
Fujitaka Kinomoto met Nadeshiko at a small market. For Fujitaka, it was love at first sight._

_He promised her the world if she promised him his hand.  
And reality had begun to vanish before Nadeshiko's eyes. They promised. _

"…_Nadeshiko, just, please, I'm a terrible person. I slept around when I was eighteen. I've tried about every drug imaginable. I've given up so many times it's unbearable. You don't need it"  
he sighed, approaching a past he had recounted many times to the lovely lady. _

"_And now you're making me give up" she clenched her teeth, her eyes giving up. _

_Alberto noted the tears dwelling in her mind, slipping through her eyes. It broke his heart to see her so distressed. But it wasn't always so.  
There were days God designed for him to love Nadeshiko and days where he couldn't love at all.  
It was an inconsistency he hated, an inconsistency he didn't want anyone else to hate. _

"_It'll make you happy, trust me" was all he gave her tears._

"_I'm already happy with you!" _

"_Happier" Alberto lastly said, walking out on his wilted flower. _

_Seven months later, Nadeshiko Amamiya knew of Fujitaka Kinomoto's love for her in marriage.  
A year and a half later, she knew of love for her firstborn in Touya Kinomoto.  
Twelve years later, she knew of a love for her daughter in Sakura. _

_These were all days in which Alberto designated his love for Nadeshiko. _

_

* * *

_"Good evening…Mr. Ricci" her words left her lips like the thread of God holding us all.  
Her lips quivered subtly, afraid and vacant.

Alberto's bright eyes illuminated a life his own daughter had dug up. I couldn't help but be tangled in the frustration and disappointment the man incited in me. Lashing out at him would do nothing. Nothing for Sakura, nothing for Alberto and absolutely nothing for me, because every revelation surfacing into reality was between the two. Sakura knew of the truth. We spoke for hours on that night, on the night Touya apologized more than he could, on the night that Fujitaka conveniently disappeared, on the night that Sakura was more vulnerable than ever.

They were hours of denial, hours of _Oh, no, Fujitaka is my dad…he may very well still be my dad…he's been with me, that's what matters_.  
They were words of rejection. But Sakura knew well of blood.

And she carried Alberto Ricci's blood.

"You can call me Alberto, remember?" the man knew of nothing because he was still polite, or he was full of shit.

"Mr. Ricci is fine, though, right?" she spoke in a reserved manner.  
Sakura was the master of facades, and I never thought to know of it.

Alberto looked hesitant; he bit his lip beneath our eyes and smiled in strained sentiments,  
"You may call me whatever you would like"

Sakura's grip on my hand was loosened; she turned to look for my eyes, knowing I would be there for her.  
I looked back, granted her a smile of reassurance.

_I wanna give you the world if you just stay with me tonight  
I wanna give you the world if you just hold me tight_

These are truths you'll never have a side-story to.  
They're truths I'll give you in every kiss and every word, free from all those pesky side notes people just assumed you would come into on your own. I'll be with you, Sakura.

"Mr. Ricci" she nodded at him and we left as he entered the elevator.  
We should just forget about the world.

* * *

"Ugh, God, why is everyone so fucking full of shit!"

We found a lake by the hotel that took a beating.

"Everyone, you hear me, Syaoran? The world is full of people like Alberto!"

Another rock thrashed into the once tranquil lake, reflecting a violent girl.

"Fujitaka!"

A splash surfaced on the lush of grass that fell right before our feet.  
Not that I was a picky boy, but I would have preferred my Converse to have remained dried and clean.

"And Touya!"

The last rock was smaller than the others. It didn't stop the water from covering my shoes.

Upon my wet soles, Sakura finally noted the agitation she had caused in the otherwise calm atmosphere.  
Sighing, she sat down on the grass and groaned loudly. I couldn't help but grin despite the uneasy turmoil Sakura arrived into.

I sat beside her, reaching for her shoulder, knowing that sometimes even the slightest touch between our hands elevated most of our questionable situations.

"Syaoran, please don't think I'm crazy"

Her eyes sunk in the inevitable realization that her family was transparent.  
And now she was afraid she was just as transparent, and that maybe I could see right through her and realize how crazy her dreams are.  
That's impossible.

"I don't really mind" I pressed her back against my chest and let my lips caress her forehead. I could almost feel her smile.  
But she closed her eyes and leaned in further. I wasn't sure how she felt, but I wanted to protect her. Maybe give her the same sentiments she knew when the world was right, and even when things were wrong, her hands would always have another to hold, her eyes could look up and see another life split in brown eyes. She wouldn't have to be alone.

Sakura looked up, searching for my gaze. I reached into my pocket and fished out my forgotten iPod.  
Her eyes lightened up at the escapism we needed. Our natural high, we would think in times where we needed music.  
That was all we needed sometimes.

I handed Sakura one of the ear-buds and she smiled gratefully, pressing her delicate figure further into mine, molding all her thoughts upon the contours that hid my heart.  
She clipped her bangs back with another Hello Kitty hairclip, as her wavy honey-lush hair warmed my fingertips. By a lake, I think she fell for me (just maybe).

_Come to me and we'll talk, we'll talk and oh  
We won't scream and we won't shout  
Because you love me  
I know that this is real_

* * *

Yeah, not that great and slow-paced, and to be honest, I'm getting too detailed with this story. I originally had it set to 9-10 chapters. And by the looks of it, it'll probably be a bit more than that. I'm sorry, I just got too carried away! But rest assure, it won't go over...16? Ah, that's probably too much. Oh well, please, some feedback would be very much appreciated!


	11. The Ghost of Blank Future

Okay, some more mixed reviews with the actions that are being taken in the story, sorry! It's just what I find suiting, of course, that may not be to everyone's liking.  
I understand this. Anyway, thank you all so much for reviewing!

**Saki-Hime**: I'm sorry! But Alberto is in fact her dad, I wanted Sakura to develop a bit, and I realized if all things were fine and dandy, it wouldn't have been as effective, you know?  
But on the brightside, of course Syaoran's going to be there for her, duh! :)

**I wish I wasn't tone-deaf**: GAAAAHHH your reviews always make me melt! In a good way, yes. Ahhh, Motion City Soundtrack! It's been so long since I've listened to them.  
As soon as I read your feedback, I immediately started listening to them. Good memories :3 I'm glad you liked Best Coast, they're not everybody's cup of tea, but they  
certainly do make for happy thoughts (for me, anyway).

**lhaine07**: Sorry, sorry, sorry! It wasn't mean to be a Shouta x Sakura moment, it was more to establish, or re-establish, their relationship (after Shouta being rejected).  
But it will be their last 'moment', from here on out, things will be much friendlier between the trio. Right, it's true that Nadeshiko is married to Fujitaka, I just, well, it's  
hard to explain why I chose Nadeshiko's past and actions the way I did. I guess it's just a psychological decision I made, idk. But thank you for the feedback!

**broken emerald**: Ah, I knew it! I was reading the chapter once I finished and couldn't help but feel like it was a bit choppy, and I apologize, I suppose my words didn't  
entirely flow the way they should have, but I do hope this chapter compensates. I'm glad you liked reading on Nadeshiko's past, you were one of the few XD

**mimietgigi**: Oh, no worries! Review when you can, no need to apologize :) Yes! That's exactly what I was going for, I mean, things aren't always great,  
so if there's something bad going on, why not try to balance it with something good, get me? Thank you!

**James Birdsong**: Thank you, I think?

**Ree-Vance**: Yesh! I accomplished some sort of unpredictability in my story! XD lol.  
Well, one of your two requests might come true...that's all I'm saying ;)

**elhai07**: I know! It may be too much, which is why I'm hoping to settle it down with the next few chapters.  
I think a few of your questions should be answered in this chapter, hope you enjoy :)

**Happyham**: Ahhh yes, Syaoran is a little too overdramatic with his jealousy.  
He just needs a little more confidence though, it'll come through :) as for Shouta...well, he's just an odd character at this point. I think they all are. -sigh-

**sadistprincess**: Go you! Lol, well, rest assure Shouta will stay away, Syaoran's all Sakura needs ;)  
And yeah, I made Nadeshiko a little too OOC, but I think I've managed to accomplish that with most of the characters. I think I'm just trying to incorporate reality too much, but  
it might also be a good thing, you know? And good! I'm glad you tolerate cheesiness in romance stories as much as I do :3

Anyway, here is chapter eleven. As for the amount of chapters, I've decided how things are going to work out once and for all.  
I mean, I knew what I was doing...just not exactly XD but rest assure, this story will have an ending. Thank you!

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura is mine only in dreams.

* * *

When you're holding hands with one person, do you see their dreams too?

"_I've been thinking, and you know what, Xiao Lang, I think you're going to be someone important"_

I was too overwhelmed when I turned ten. My father spoke of my importance once more before disappearing.  
I didn't believe in holding hands anymore, the last I felt were two hands telling me I would be perfectly fine, _your mother will be the best without me_.

When I woke up, my hands were clumsily tangled with Sakura's.  
I had eaten her delicate dreams, because my mind played moments of my father when I fell asleep. She had her father their too.  
Can you dream of another's dreams when you hold their hand?

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, Syaoran, where are we?" her eyes flew wide upon feeling the dew growing on her fingertips.  
Sakura stood up, fearful in the realization that dawned on her. She looked around, I looked with her. She sighed, I smiled at her.

"Don't worry, it's only…" I checked my watch; "Oh shit, it's one in morning"  
I stood up beside her, ruffled my rough hair and wondered how on earth we had managed to fall asleep and wake up safely

In the middle of Milan at a park near a lake, where a-many tourists, homeless and locals walked about, Sakura and I had fallen asleep tangled in the deserted dreams of our troubled minds. We had arrived at the park around eight thirty pm. And we stood in disbelief around one am.

She sighed and messed around with the tangles in her hair. She groaned and pulled her curls, letting her arms drop at her sides in defeat.  
She was too cute in any sentiment, so I laughed.

"Don't laugh, Syaoran, who knows what disease we have now!"

She clenched her fists and glared at my mirth, one I couldn't control.

"You should be glad I have my first aid-kit in my purse at all times" she grumbled, fishing through her pink bag, pulling out a pastel blue Choco-Cat first aid-kit.  
It was too much.

"Oh my God, only you would carry a first aid-kit around!" my laughter increased as I held on to my knees for support of our sudden turn of events. My lips hurt from laughing, something completely impossible, my eyes danced in the image of Sakura Kinomoto flustered and pouty. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked around, waiting for me to finish.  
Which I did…eventually.

"Are you done?" Sakura repeated the Rika Sasaki pose, a hand on her hip and her foot tapping impatiently. I stopped as I gave her a smile, reassuring her that even though she had probably missed a shower for the first time in her life, the world would still stink. That's why some people don't bother showering.

"You're really cute, you know that" I pulled her close and sunk her into my chest, my arms wrapping around her petite shoulders, as I dove my nose into her hair, "and really smelly"

"Am not!" she protested, pushing me off her as she discretely attempted a whiff at her hair.

"I'm just kidding!" I laughed even more at her returned facial expression; embarrassment.

She looked around, her arms getting too comfortable across her chest. Suddenly, our universes collided and her lips connected with my heart.  
Her light laughter joined my own as we stared into each other's eyes void of all silly romance. We were just happy.

Our mirth ended with a final sigh of contentment, one Milan was in dire need of for last night.

"Do you think Touya's been looking for you?"

Sakura looked away again; it had been a while since we had mentioned her family. Hours.

"Maybe…it is late and stuff"

I grinned at myself, knowing the clouds had only cleared a bit from her mind.  
Darkness still loomed, darkness she had been unconsciously spreading into my mind with her hands, her lovely hands.

When I really thought about it, I remembered December behind a curtain of smoke.  
Father used to smoke; he used to smoke a shitload. It's around that curtain of smoke in December when he left.

"_Listen, Xiao Lang, if you see your mother a little down, be there for her, alright?" _

_Big eyes searched for his father's. They weren't so small anymore; they couldn't fit his father in anymore. _

"_Well, you should be there for her too" the ten year old words resonated lightly in the father's chest.  
But that was at most. _

"_Do you know what it is to fall in love, Xiao Lang?" _

_The ten year-olds hands never let his no. 2 pencil down.  
His math homework was never left undone._

"_No" _

_The father said nothing more; he ruffled his son's hair, his tall figure leaving the room._

"_Wait, I'm just kidding, when you fall in love with someone, you marry them, right?"  
Xiao Lang sprung to his feet, speaking just for the sake of his father's existence in their happy home._

_The father stopped in his steps and turned to look at his ten year-old son. He was a vast improvement of his ten year-old self.  
Saying childish things like 'marriage' with 'love' were words of innocence, an innocence he had no idea his son knew of. He was ten, all the same. _

"_Well, you can. You can also fall _out _of love, you know that?" _

_His father's words left him dumbfounded. He had seen love in many places. He had seen love inked on to Disney films. He had seen love in a bakery where one of his classmates always picked up pastries for her family every Sunday morning. He had seen love in many other places. He didn't know you could fall out of love, nothing of the sort existed in the twilight of his eyes. _

"_No" the boy replied._

"_When you fall out of love, it's no good to stick around…you know that?"  
Xiao Lang hated the way his father kept asking him. He clearly knew nothing. _

"_No" _

"_You'll understand that I can't stick around then"  
His father was a businessman. A crazy businessman, like his crazy artist mother. They had been meant for each other, had Walt Disney directed their lives.  
They had met on a summer night, both caught in the distraught of their heart beats in youthful thought. Xiao Lang had heard the story more than once and twice from his mother. _

_But his father thought differently. _

"_No" Xiao Lang finally spoke as his father walked out the door. _

"Neh, Syaoran, come on, before someone sees us" hands tugged on my sleeve, reminding me we had finally arrived back at the hotel.  
The walk hadn't been long, but neither had my thoughts.

"Sakura, it's one in the morning, I doubt anyone's still up" I reassured her, knowing her nerves had been bundled up nearly all day long.  
Sneaking back into the very hotel we stayed in had to be ridiculous.

"Sakura…where have you been?" I seem to be wrong all the time.

Had we not passed by the bar, had we not decided to skip the lobby and take the shortcut to the second elevator, we would not have passed by a worn out Fujitaka, sitting at the bar with only one drink in his hand. He looked clean, his eyes looked stern, he looked sober, above all, he looked like he always had; like Sakura's father. She stood still in the mention of her name, not because we had been caught, in any state she could care less. She cared because she was afraid.

"Out, hey, dad – um…can I talk to you?" once she spoke these words, I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, hoping some of my optimistic dreams could be passed on to her.  
You'll be fine. Everything will be alright, for you, Sakura.

"I'll see you tomorrow" I smiled, a smile carrying worry and reassurance (however those two ever fit).

I glanced back once more and noted Sakura's posture. She stood tall and brave, against the shadows her untold past engulfed her in.  
She stood tall and brave against the father she once knew.

* * *

I'm going to ask you about everything Touya may have forgotten.  
You can't forget a single image, I know, you were there. You were hurt.  
But you've always been there, even when you were hurt.

"Touya…he, he told me, about…about it, about it all, so…" I couldn't go on further with anything, because when I looked my Fujitaka, his eyes fell from the sky and into despair.  
He wasn't worried because I was missing, he wasn't proud because he was on a successful promotional trip, he was afraid because I was catching up. I was nervous.

"I'm so sorry, Sakura…" but he stopped running and let me catch up.

The realization had crushed me enough earlier today. Each moment I had to myself, I would end up suffocated. I would drown myself in the disbelief and disappointment people I loved allowed me to swim in. I would do it all, voluntarily. I would let myself sink in the fangs of reality and drink from the blood of acceptance.  
But it wasn't over…nothing ever seemed to be over anymore.

"I understand that you love me, because I love you. You've been here with me; I don't blame you for anything but not telling me everything. I will always call you dad. I just want to know how you feel" a few tears persisted in release as I spoke with shaking lips. _Be strong, sweet girl, you're only steps away_.

His eyes widened, perhaps in the easy acceptance I had given him, perhaps in the pages I had filled out for him, because he had no other dialogue to perform but his own feelings.  
And that was, perhaps, the best kind of dialogue. It was the truest.

"You're very bright…and understanding, Sakura, thank you" he nodded, a tight smile reflecting the torn sentiments of confrontation in his gentle eyes.  
They weren't always gentle, so I knew he loved me.

"How did you feel?" I sat beside him at the bar. The bartender did not bother with our atmosphere, no one else did.  
Everyone kept to their shadows in hushed voices, speaking only in lips we could not bother with.  
Life had invited us its privacy, we had no other choice but to accept.

"Before anything, I want you to know that your mother was a wonderful mother, despite whatever you've heard, she never let you down. She was always there for you, she always pampered you and told you things she wouldn't even let me know, she loved you, alright?" My father sounded weak, he sounded insecure because he was stubborn in keeping Nadeshiko's image as lovely as the day he bumped into her. He was a strong man.

"I don't hate her, dad, I can't hate her, it would hurt a lot. But finding out that all this happened, well, I want you to let me know about _you_. How did _you_ feel? Do _you _hate her? Do _you _hate Alberto? I may not have been there before, but I am here now" Even if the bitterness remained at the tip of my tongue, I couldn't allow the poison to infect the one person that had stood by my side. He may have been a liar, but isn't that some sort of requirement humans have? I couldn't stay mad at him, not when Syaoran had loved most of the anger away.  
I would be better suited to love.

His eyes finally looked old. He finally looked old. He looked like someone I loved.  
He looked like my father.

"Why do you ask me this?" he sighed, looking down and giving me a small smile.

"Because I deserve to know"

Fujitaka allowed his memory some time before recollecting it all before me.

"I think I always knew about those two. When I met your mother, I didn't need to meet anyone else. She was everything in such a short time, you may not know of this, but life happens like that. I asked her if she needed help, she was carrying way too much, so she said yes. After that day, it was just date after date, but she was always busy, with her career and you know, him. I had met him about three times before we got married, I never suspected anything. I did feel something, though"  
he stopped after a few words, looking at his drink, then looking at me.

"We got married and she never saw him again, not while we had Touya anyway. It wasn't until some years later that she got a call from some agency she had worked with before; they wanted to interview her, see how life had worked out for her. She eagerly accepted and took off on the first flight to Italy. I knew she would see him. He worked for that agency, it was inevitable" his pauses were becoming more frequent, the more he paused, the more he stole a glance from my eyes.  
I never had noticed how dark his eyes were. I never noticed how much of a contrast we had.

"Sakura, the more I look at you, the more I see of him"

Please don't say those things. My hair will always match yours, even if by coincidence. My heart will always match yours even if by time.  
Please don't say such sad things.

"Don't talk about that" I spoke softly. He nodded and continued.

"She had to stay in Italy for six months. Each day worried me, but it also made me hate myself. I hated myself for thinking she could be capable of loving someone else, physically. Whenever she would call home, things were alright. She would fix things very easily. After those six months ended, she came back. She looked different, she looked miserable. She was also showing…there was no other way of letting me know the truth; it was right in front of me, right? Well, I forgave her. That easily, I'm not sure why, but I don't regret it. It led me to you" he finished his words with one sad smile. His smile caressed the sadness in his heart he had been clinging on to for too long.

My eyes had lied. I buried my face into my father's chest and cried.  
I cried one last time, promise.

* * *

"Number Girl or Asobi Seksu?"

"How can you even compare those two? They're completely different"  
I replied at the challenge pretty boy presented before me.

"They're both completely amazing bands, those are perfect grounds for comparison"  
Shouta replied defiantly, taking a sip of his white chocolate mocha.

I sighed, agreeing with his observation. "Asobi Seksu, early years"

"Pfft, you say that like they've been together for long"

"You say that like they won't be" I rebutted, enjoying the words of a fellow adversary.

"Touché" he wagged his finger at me, mocking in an older generation. I chuckled lightly.  
In the short time that we had begun a mutual dislike for one another, we also ignited a mutual acceptance for one another. In fact, Shouta and I had been speaking over anything for nearly hours. It had been three in the morning when we fell asleep and now as we stood packing for Madrid, music caught our attention once more. A mutual interest for particular music brought us _together_.

Our bags had been packed. We exited the hotel room, closing the same door we nearly fought behind.  
I wondered how his fist would have felt, and I wondered if we would have been conversing over the exact same interests had I suffered a broken nose.

"After you lend Sakura your Crystal Castles vinyl, I'm next, yes?"

I shrugged, "Go for it"

There's nothing prettier than spreading sounds and lyrics. _Good_ sounds and lyrics.

We reached the elevator and entered without distractions. Shouta began to speak.

"How's Sakura?"

"What?" did he know? Oh, that Sakura.

"I'm not stupid. I can tell something's going on with her"

I grumbled at how obvious Sakura allowed herself to be, but also took notice that it didn't matter, because we were surrounded by good people.  
They were good souls.

"Life took a pretty big hit at her, but she's fine" I replied, hoping for my words.

"Interesting…well, I'm glad for that" he nodded in nothing but friendly concern.  
Things would be alright.

"How are you?" I didn't know if they were the right words to ask him.

"Oh, and you have the nerve to ask me that, you bastard" he replied jokingly, semi-jokingly.  
I chuckled and rolled my eyes, saying, "It's just a question"

"Oh, well, in that case, terrific! Never been better" he grinned sarcastically, knowing he would be alright.

"That's the spirit" I patted his back and exited as the elevator doors were opened.

Touya and Feimei were the only ones to greet us at the lobby, by greeting I meant ignoring.

I looked around and noticed the honey headed girl had not arrived yet. It wasn't in coincidence that Sakura had not arrived yet.  
She was hardly ever late, and her words and confrontation concerning Fujitaka must have been to blame.

"Um, did Sakura leave already?" my question came in short confidence, aware Touya would probably never like me.

And as anticipated, Touya rolled his eyes and mumbled his reply, "Yep, something about not wanting to waste her time with boys that are way out of her league, I think"

Jerk. "…really?" and I fell for it.

"Oh, no sorry, I thought you were asking me what I thought of you two" he coolly replied, returning to his conversation with Feimei, who laughed equally in the effectiveness of his joke. Jerk.

"You're hilarious" I mumbled. Shouta walked forward with Touya and Feimei, my question left unbothered.  
I grabbed my bags and followed.

We had a taxi already waiting for us, Feimei and Shouta were the first to get in as Touya dealt with most of the luggage.  
I managed a small spot on Touya's good side, or attempted to as I assisted him.

I helped him pick up Feimei's colossal bag.

"Thanks" Touya grumbled beneath the heavy weight. I glanced at him, not entirely asking him for much, but secretly wanting his approval. There was some hurt in his previous words, not because he held any form of significance for me, but because I always needed approval. It was a closure I always assumed missing since my father left.  
It's one of those habits humanity acquires.

"Sure" I replied.

Touya looked at me and said, "She left with Alberto. It's nothing to worry about. She wanted to talk to him"

I got in the taxi with the rest, feeling hopeful for the closure of another even without my own.

* * *

How do you stop hands from shaking? Do you tie them behind your back, so then you have to focus on other limbs to compensate for?  
Is there anything that is not beyond my medical knowledge that I can do? Maybe if my hands are in my pockets, no one else will know.

"You really surprised me"

Maybe I should be telling Alberto this, instead of the way he told me. I learned he was a man of many charms, but he couldn't fool you.  
Truth be told, Alberto did not fool a soul because in the depths of his charms, he was completely honest. He bared it all, regardless of how painful it may have been.  
This must have driven my mother crazy.

"I think I should be the one to say that" I replied nervously, still aware that before me stood a tall man who was also my biological father.  
My heart was thudding much too rapidly, and still, I couldn't feel a thing.

"Here you go" he handed me my chai latte, as we sat in a café at the airport. I had asked my father, Fujitaka, permission to speak to Alberto. He laughed, sadly almost, and grinned at me because he tried to disguise his pain. His worry was beyond me. But I promised I would not fall for any other man that was not my father. My father took me shopping to the mall for pastel dresses, he held my hand when I opened my high school acceptance letter; he was the man by my side when Alberto wasn't.

"Thank you" my voice was small, hardly compatible to the Italian man's elegant tones, even with me.

We sat at a table, far from anyone else. My dad had already passed through luggage, with Yelan. Alberto's assistant Emilio had bid us farewell and luck on Madrid.  
All that left me to struggle over this man, this charming man (who was indeed a part of me).

I wanted to know this charming man.

"Um why, well, why didn't you…" I didn't know where to begin. I wasn't upset, I mean, I had been upset much too long to meddle with the fickle sentiment, but the nerves consumed me. I was a nervous girl, by nature, so it was inevitable. I mean, how do I approach my father for the first time about our touchy matter? _Oh hey you! You either didn't love me or my mother much to care about well, the mess you created. _That would be childish, though.

"Why weren't you around?" My lips blurted out a much more formal version of my thoughts, without hesitation.

Alberto took a sip of his coffee, black, I assumed, and looked at me like I had always been his daughter.  
His lips delicately formed words I had been waiting for nearly all my life in a span of a few days.

"I didn't want to ruin anything" his reply was simple, which actually, settled in the juxtaposition of my mind.  
It's like he knew just what to say, and just how to say it.

"I think it may have been a little too late for that" I sheepishly spoke, letting go of a nervous chuckles, nervous in bittersweet circumstances.

But Alberto noted my struggling charms, and returned my shy smile.  
His was more of an apologetic smile, though. In those lips, I flipped through pages of regret, disappointment and a magnetic taste of alienation.  
I could tell Alberto Ricci's life had been a carefully and rudely stamped novel, forgotten outside in the rain by the swings.

This did not justify anything, after all.

"I mean, you are who you are because of Fujitaka…I'm sure that's something you don't regret" he continued, reassuring my happiness.

"But who knows who I could have been because of you. I mean, think about it, could I have been a better person? Could I have been a smarter person? Maybe I could have been a terrible person, there's just too many possibilities…it's got me feeling a little afraid, and well, disappointed" I finished, breathing lightly, too timid to show any vital signs.  
The man was intimidating.

"Are you happy?"

His question caught me off guard. But I fell in the comfort of everything I knew before most of it was all lies.

I smiled, timidly but sure of it.

"Yeah, before all of this happened, I think I was the happiest girl alive, really, I mean there were little problems here and there but…nothing like you"

His lips formed an uncomfortable smile as he said, "You sound like your mother, you did…just now"

He hadn't mentioned mother in a personal way today, not until now. The idea that they were more, much, much more than my own parents had been, burned in the child my heart would stubbornly cling on to. Somewhere in me, I felt the need to yell at him for breaking up my lovely family, for creating a problem bundled up in overwhelmingly sentimental consequences, for creating me. But this would only be true if my family _had _been indeed lovely. The truth hit me roughly in the face saying, _Sakura, your mother never fell in love with Fujitaka the way she fell for your other half_. There was a force impending marriage upon my mother's perpetual state of sadness which Alberto's unrequited commitment made her idealize of.  
She had to conform.

But she didn't have to lie so much.

"So…what are we?" the situation could have been graceful where reunions were concerned, but my nerves only made it even more awkward.

He was silent, thinking of the words to say.

"Would it make me a terrible person if I said I would like to see you more?" there was a tight uncertainty grasping his words, he was nervous…like me.

I replied quickly, my heart too urgent to wait.

"Yes. It would make you the worst. It would be very,very, very selfish of you to show up only because you've been caught. Nothing could justify it, not the sudden interest flourishing in your heart at this very moment, or the trapped need to know how your daughter is doing after years of abandonment"

Bright eyes dimmed, casting looks downward, feigning acceptance.

"But it would make me a terribly cold-hearted girl to completely deny my father, even with the years of negligence and especially with the morals I was brought up with" my words were proud in the outcome of Fujitaka's care. He was my main priority where guardians were concerned. He was the first person you are assured to love forever, because he is family.

Alberto is a man I want to know.  
Alberto is a man I need to know.

"You really are too kind, Sakura" the charming man grinned humbly, grateful in the sudden opportunity.  
He looked alarmed when I scraped my chair against the tiled floor a bit too abruptly.

"This is for me, as well" I reached into my purse and took out a ballpoint pen.  
Grabbing a lightly crumbled, unused napkin, I scribbled my thoughts.

"You may call me, I hope you do, because this can't be too bad, right?" my words started out boldly, professionally even, but then sank into my previous nerves.  
But this was the right thing to do, I knew.

Alberto stood up beside me and accepted the napkin. He extended his firm hand towards my trembling one.  
I reached for his palm and shook it with full force, some love hidden between my fingers.

"Thank you, Sakura"

I nodded politely and turned to ext the café, leaving all my troubles for another city. I felt a chapter of my life settle in, nearly complete. The writings formed a content conclusion in which my hands ceased to tremble ridiculously. I reached into my pocket and felt a strip of paper with words handwritten by a stranger's no.2 pencil, once more.

_People are just people, they shouldn't make you nervous_.

* * *

Okay, soooo if you noticed, we see a bit of Syaoran's own issues. Did ya' notice? Hope you did, because it might be a more central topic in the next chapters.  
I'm just glad this whole Sakura's dad ordeal is much more complete. Oh well, please give me some feedback, it would be very much appreciated.


	12. Something Good Can Work

I am very, very, very, very sorry for my incredibly long absence! And for the previous chapters, I know they haven't been my best work, but I'm trying (believe it or not), but sometimes, writing can become a heavy and serious matter - blah. Well, anyway! I've got too much to say, so much has happened to me! But I suppose that doesn't really concern anyone on here, heh. All I have to say is my break has been incredible, a bit of my life has definitely been imprinted on this chapter. Maybe because I'm aching to graduate already...either way, I've also been incredibly busy, so I hope you all understand the delays. I do appreciate all the encouragement though!

And for my fellow reviewer, I admit, your lengthy review stung the first time I read it, but as I went back and reread it a couple of more times, it sunk in. I had this whole, "Oh, duh!" moment. But in all honesty, I had been feeling very sketchy about the last few chapters (or however many you felt a falling out with), and noted the sloppiness and the hasty wording, so I do apologize for that. As for the title 'Simple Things', I was aiming for the irony of life type of deal, you know. But anyway, I would go into detail in my defense against your honest claims, but truthfully, there would be no point in that. I see exactly what you've read though, and I bared it in my thoughts, fearing someone else would notice, but anyway, all is done. I hope this chapter compensates for my mediocre chapters if you're still reading :)

And here's the thing lovely readers...this chapter is LONG. I mean hella' long. So beware.  
If anyone finishes reading it, thank you! XD

DISCLAIMER: CCS belongs to CLAMP 

* * *

"I always get this really weird feeling, right here, whenever something bad is about to happen" a delicate flesh of right pointed to her left wrist. She fumbled with the oddity that her left hand normally experienced under inopportune situations. The indication that tragedies fell upon her spring-themed kaleidoscope eyes rendered shallow puddles of water in the reality of my soul. There were these instances that collided with my existence. Moments where Sakura sat beside me, pointing out little facts no one else could have easily known, little moments that nurtured the soul…that implied a reality we all lived. Even once above everything, Sakura fell and scraped her knees, just like every other kid.

"Your left wrist? That's kind of weird" I replied, taking a hold of her left wrist. The touch reminded me of words and of the cinema.  
A film stripped of pretense and flourishing in skin, and of her lively eyes caught in the death of fall, welcoming winter.

"Well, maybe that's why I didn't tell you" Sakura quickly removed her wrist from my hold, feeling all the more aware of her words and definitions.  
She had defined a moment to me, clear as day that whenever bad news came, her left wrist would ache.  
I kept remembering words and moving pictures.

"I didn't mean it like that, here, give me your wrist" I reached once more for her hand, disregarding any permission.  
When her soft skin enveloped my own, I felt the traces of what I had intended to say come back again.

"Here you go, Dr. Li" her humor convinced her of happy days.  
Days of idle pleasure and humble fields, where modest mice never ruined a happy thought with their squeamish interruption.  
I chuckled at her comparison.

"Not like that, stupid" my words intended good-natured conversation.  
Sakura smiled and relaxed her skin into mine. I felt her wrist, indulging in the sense of cinematography.  
And Mexico.

"Um…" there was a tension in her hesitance, as I fumbled with her wrist.

"You know, wrist in Spanish is actually muñeca"

Her eyes widened in the newly informed detail, a detail that had clung on to her body for years, one she barely took notice of, with exception of her bad days.

"Moo – what?" Sakura's puzzled expression softened with an anticipated explanation.  
Most of our conversations had been softening since Milan.

The way her pronunciation fell short of mine poked a smile upon my face.  
It wasn't to say that I had a clear pronunciation of the romantic language, but it truly accomplished much more than hers could say at this moment.

"Mu-nie-ka" I pronounced slowly.  
She captured the words with her eyes, focusing on the invisibility behind me and into the rows of the airplane we momentarily waited in.  
Her index fingers traced the words in the air, memorizing the feel of the different 'n' and shortened 'a'.

"Moo-ne-ka?" Sakura tilted her head, her wrist never letting loose of my hold.  
I felt a certainty in feeling her hands whilst mentioning languages beyond our comprehension.  
There was a clever beauty in knowledge, one I took for granted on occasion…daily.

"Hm, close enough, but more importantly right now, it also means doll in Spanish, so when I'm holding your wrist, in Mexico and Spain and Columbia and every other Spanish speaking country, I'm holding your muñeca and also a _muñeca_, so through reasoning, it must mean…"  
I carefully placed my words, and paused towards the end, squeezing her in my hand tightly.

Crystal green widened, drowning in the sweetness of words any other language but our own provided. "I'm holding on to a doll"  
my words grabbed a hold of her countenance and spread a lightly rosy tint, her teeth biting her bottom lip, preventing a smile.

"Ahem, well, I didn't know you knew Spanish"  
her delicate eyes coyly looked away, her lips subtly asked for an explanation.

I hummed for one, and looked up at the screen that would soon play an assortment of awful blockbusters.  
Maybe this time I could sleep through another Jennifer Aniston sob-intended fest.

"I don't really know the language itself; I just really like _Amores Perros_"

"I didn't mean that…" the timidity in her lips needed to be felt, soon.

"I know" I grinned, though, realizing it could wait.

Confusion once more wrote about her clear countenance, her small and thinly shaped nose scrunched, her small and pouty lips pursed, her small and cream colored hands returned to her lap.

"Oh and um, that thing, Amoh-raise pear-ohs?" She reminded me in broken Spanish.

I felt a glorious sense of accomplishment polished by the mere coincidence that we had embarked on a topic in which I had the upper hand.  
And I know, I'm sitting beside the girl that's suffocated my heart for days and months now, but after twelve years of knowledge storming over her pretty little head and sprinkling over mine (and only by mishap do I harvest more than her intellectual garden), I knew more than Sakura Kinomoto.

Of course, the smile did not miss its chance to spread across my face and alarm her slightly.

"What is it, Syaoran, tell me!" small knuckles began to hit my shoulder; she lightly fussed with the title that stuck to my heart like glue, with the language that invited gritty images.

"It's nothing! Just a Mexican film, a really good one, you should watch it. It's one of my favorite movies" I laughed the beginning and calmly spoke the last words, once her light hits ceased action. She sat in a more comfortable angle, an angle in which she could rest her honey hair on my empty shoulder. Empty bones that enhanced meaning with hers, these were the little moments I used to dig into as a child.  
The little moments I lived in when no one else cared.  
No one else cared for long.

"Oh, well, what's it about?" the simplicity in her question was compensated by the interest in her eyes.  
They swirled in loops and sank in depths of sincerity.  
Sometimes, I didn't know if I knew anyone more eager to open up the wounds of history and dissect the body of intellect.  
Her mind must have been a trip, but you know, one with morals and a well-controlled conscious.

"It's a little hard to explain in small words, it's a long story, well, they're long stories, three long stories, but they connect… and I wouldn't want to ruin it for you" I gave her the simplest summary my mind could come up with. She nodded, understanding how easily things could be ruined.  
How easily simple days could be ruined by unknown information.  
She carried all of this on her mind without letting it smother her heart.  
She must have had a strong hold.  
I held her hand.

"Excuse me!" a foreign voice entered our bubble, shoving his hip against my face and, somehow, managing to elegantly glide beside Sakura. Shouta carried a bright orange hiking backpack (which had coincidentally slapped my face on his way to the window seat).  
Our odd stares gave him one impression: WTF?

"Don't ask" he grumbled slamming the orange bundle beneath his seat. We sat in our seats beneath our existences. Shouta had claimed the window seat by ticket, Sakura got comfortable quickly in the middle, and I had no other choice but to endure the aisle seat, where I was greeted by sleeping faces, grumpy faces and determined faces.  
Everyone had a story in Madrid.

"What movie are they showing?" Shouta's hasty question was asked as he dug into his orange glob and pulled out a freshly made bag of popcorn.  
He munched without concern and offered Sakura a bit, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I'm not sure, hey um, is it okay to have that?"  
Sakura's insecure side became exposed, as her question brought up her ignorance to airplane regulations. It was just food.

"This? Pfft, it's just food, I got some Capri Sun too, if you want some" Shouta's words ignited sparks of laughter from Sakura's lips.  
Her ha-ha's were clearer than the day in the clouds, her smiles were longer than her forlorn expressions days ago in just seconds.

"Don't laugh, why are you laughing, hm?" Shouta grumbled, punching his straw into the tiny hole, not missing, and with great accuracy.  
He must have been a juice-box boy as a kid.

"Because you've packed a 7-11" I answered between Sakura's light giggles, she was reminded of her own voice.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you, it's just – "Sakura's temperate apology was interrupted as Shouta tossed a Capri Sun into her lap.

"It's _okay_, I can take a joke" he stuck his tongue out in his playful bishounen (don't ask) antics, returning to fast sips of his Capri Sun.  
He sunk in his seat, searched for his iPod and proceeded to avoid reality, the Modest way.

"I'm the same as I was when I was six years-old, and oh my God, I feel so damn old, I don't really feel anything~" Shouta had a brilliant idea.  
He had brilliant inspiration surging through his ears and nurturing his mind, making its way to the tip of his tongue.  
He sang and I thought to do the same.

Taking out my own iPod, I handed an earphone to Sakura, and as we shared a similar state, I played Shouta's song, the timing completely in sync after a few seconds of forwarding.

"On a plane, I can see the tiny lights below, and oh my God, they look so alone, do they really feel anything? ~"  
Shouta turned his honey speckled eyes and grinned as I sang along.

"Oh my God, I've got to, got to, got to, got to move on, where do you move when what you're moving from – "  
Sakura's tunes warmed our voices, accompanying in a trio sing-along, one in which disturbed a few sleepers and grumped a few grumpers.  
But our thoughts aligned with the one truth we knew in words and sounds.

"Is yourself? ~" The one truth we sang in unison, earning a kick from the prudent businessman behind us who more than likely shared a lengthier and more meaningful life between his paperwork and his didactic tasting office than in his lonely wife and unintentionally neglected teenagers.

Fuck grown-ups (sometimes).

"The universe works on a math equation that never even ever really ends in the end~" became the last lyrics our youthful lips collectively sang, before Sakura's hand slipped into mine, and our blooming happiness transcended into a consoling slumber.

We could save the world at large for another day.

* * *

"Waaaaaake up" the traces of water trickling down my nose and into my eyes became my alarm. I fluttered my eyes into reality and focused on the bokeh image before me. Lights behind her face, lights of the passenger's cell phones alarming beloveds or business partners of their arrival.  
Sakura stood in the aisle by my seat with a half-empty water bottle. She smiled sweetly, a tired expression glistening in her eyes.  
She hadn't slept as much as I had, she hadn't thought as much as I had.  
You dream of thoughts and they span throughout your life and are but a mere couple of seconds. I had slept more.

"Mmm, are we here?" I rubbed my eyes and yawned into my question.

Sakura was busy with her luggage, as she tossed her pink pillow at my drowsy face.  
The impact was about as heavy as 'pink pillow' sounds to be.  
Standing up, I retrieved my own luggage and followed all the nameless faces exiting the airplane.

Catching up with the rest, Sakura and I rested at the benches by the entrance of Madrid-Barajas Airport.  
We waited in our tired eyes and our lyrical minds, tapping different rhythms to different heartbeats.  
Who knows what went on in her mind (? Wait, no).

"Xiao Lang, it's about time you've shown yourself!" a curtain of the familiar jet black focused on my vision.  
My mother stood proud against the bench I sluggishly rested on.  
Her sharp brown eyes sunk deeper into the regular nonchalant boy she knew around the house, especially on Sunday afternoons.

"I'm not the one that's been sneaking off with Kinomoto" the ordinary mother-son relationship sometimes would die because we were both dominant in some aspect or another, but it was just a Li trait.  
So when I said this to mother, I meant it in the most polite manner.

But she was a Li, too, and replied, "That's not what I've been hearing" winking her small eyelashes in my direction, her eyes casually drifting into the person beside me. Sakura's face was kept in a musical trance, bobbing with the beats, her eyes closed with the rhythm.  
I was lucky on some days, because had she been conscious, I would have 'glared daggers' at mother, so to speak.  
But Yelan giggled (another new development it seemed) and strolled over to Fujitaka, as they finished their business talk.

Feimei and Touya had grouped into their bubble, Yelan and Fujitaka did the same.  
There seemed to be a family unity between us all, a family unity a bit too comfortable and personal.  
But I felt relieved in seeing the tall elegance of Kouhei Watanabe, as he disrupted the bubble of Yelan and Fujitaka (a _should_ be forbidden thought).

And then there were three, us three. Sitting on a grimy colored bench, all tied by the boundaries that our adolescence chained us to.  
Because otherwise, Sakura would be somewhere in Scotland praising Stuart Murdoch for _Tigermilk_ and Shouta establishing his underwear modeling/engineer career somewhere in London or New York (alright, I'm just kidding about one of those). And me? Me, you ask?  
Or you don't, it doesn't matter, because I'll tell you right here and right now that I haven't given a shit for the past few years.  
But you know, when you're spending days, hours to make it lengthier, experimenting with laughter and tears and all those fucked up emotional necessities beside and with the girl you, um well, love, you kind of have to.  
You kind of have to give a shit about things.

_It's the best feeling in the world_.

"What is?"  
I jerked at the question; Sakura's meek voice violated my thoughts, because I think she could read my mind now.  
She had pulled out an earphone from her left ear, the right ear sunk in the noise pop, as she turned in my direction, her legs crossed like a lady.

"Uh, what's what?" my voice was dry and my words were too.

"The best feeling in the world..?"

Oh fuck, you guessed it. You had me fooled, though! Sakura, you mind-reader.

"I-I said that?"

"Yes, you did, out loud and everything" Shouta's dark hair was flopped with his nonchalant hands, his eyes boring into my own as he cocked an eyebrow, being the only one suspicious of my ditzy response.

"He's right" Sakura nodded, her question still lingering for me to respond.

"Oh…well, um… "I was caught off guard by my own thoughts, betrayed by my slithering lips, granting secret sentences freedom when my very conscious had not even accessed any sort of consent.

"Ah, probably not even that great anyway if you've forgotten already" Shouta obnoxiously stretched, his clenched fist gently coming in contact with my cheek.  
I let him sink in as much as he could, knowing he was just an irritatingly, 'fun-loving', character. I was starting to _appreciate_ his "ways".

"Or maybe too great to be said out loud" Sakura firmly stated, her lips curved in a content smile in my poor defense.  
She stood up abruptly, taking her luggage and waltzing away alongside Fujitaka, Yelan and Kouhei, announcing her maturity.

There was a moment in which Touya was caught gazing at Sakura, but not by her. He looked away and rolled his eyes at me, mumbling a short 'mind your own damn business Chinese kid' in one short breath.  
I couldn't help but let my lips grin; sink in the inevitable jealousy that he could not justify against me.  
I was a good kid, Chinese, but good. He knew this.

"Li, come on" Shouta stood before me, his hands grabbing his luggage, his hiking backpack slung around his shoulders.  
The ridiculous amount and intensity of orange that was plastered about his backpack contrasted gravely with his pale skin and dark hair.  
The boy was an entire contrast of warm blends. I think I'm just a contrast of earthly blends, something a bit more dirty.  
I think everyone's a little dirtier than Shouta though.

"Coming" after an awkward moment of silence in which my thoughts spoke louder than my lips, I stood up bringing all my belongings and walked beside Shouta. Our steps collected tiles of newfound moments. A couple months ago, you could've mentioned the names Shouta and Sakura and I would have mentioned all I knew, all the hierachy of high school society knew.  
Because truthfully, I knew nothing.

"I was reading your mom's book, it's really good" Shouta may have been the last person I wanted peeking into mother's "soul", or whatever most author's write with.

I glanced at his honey eyes and found genuine sincerity, possibly, the best kind.

"I haven't yet"

"Which means you will?"

"Which means I should, she is mother"

Shouta nodded, a grin decorating his pink lips.  
The friendly fires sparkling in his eyes reminded me that people really are just people.  
We're more alike than we'd like to be, and that said a lot for someone like me.

_Someone like you, Xiao Lang. _

_"Just like that, now practice your swing" _

_Hands enhanced the beauty of sports, legs provided stability, and Sunday's meant the world. _

_"One, two, three, four - " _

_"Xiao, you don't have to count" The man the little boy vehemently admired yelled across the field, his catcher's mitt shaping projection for words. _

_"I know, but it helps!" Xiao Lang replied in the same manner, his own bat providing absolutely no projection. But the nine year-old spoke loud, the volume in his lungs increased daily, a peak just before a common silence occurring through the animosity of adolescence. _

_"Alright, here it comes!" _

_Xiao Lang never left the security his father's mitt wrapped around the ball. He savored in the grip and memorized the contours.  
The severity of hands and security meant a lot to the sensitive nine year-old. They meant more than his hands but less than Sundays._

_Sundays meant the world._

_The ball was unleashed from his father's grip, ripping and crashing against the wind, and Xiao Lang knew of it. _

_He steadied his grip on the bat and clenched his jaw one last time before relaxing into the sport._

_"Five, six, seven, eight!" Grunting the last eight, Xiao Lang swung, the bat igniting a strengthened velocity against the ball, sending it towards the sky beyond his father's mitt. _

_Eyes wide with surprise. _

_Lips open with surprise. _

_Sunshine blessing wide eyes. _

_Sunshine blessing open lips. _

_"Holy, oh my God, Xiao, that's amazing!" _

_"Did you see that? You saw that, yes!" _

_The nine year-old boy cheered, dropping his baseball bat and jumping like the earth were set on fire. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dilated on the pure elation one boy could feel._

_"It's been decided" _

_Xiao Lang looked for his father's words, focusing on the meaning each sentence could define.  
Everything had to be defined. _

_"What's decided?" His question captured his heart in a drum beat of anticipation.  
He took note of every word his father had to say. _

_"Baseball needs someone like you, Xiao Lang" _

_Father meant Sundays and Sundays meant the world. _

"Heeeeey yoooou"

"He's been doing that lately"

"Doing what?" My own question brought me into consciousness, well from my becoming flashbacks it seemed.  
In no way have I blamed Sakura's own paternal discovery for the reminder of mine, but the itching would not cease.  
Hands would be remembered, a catcher's mitt, Sundays in the equivalence of the world, and now, spring in the eyes of the world.  
Maybe it's because it's never happened, but I think I was a boy inclined towards falling in love as of Sakura Kinomoto days.

"Spacing out, the cab's here, come on" Shouta replied, signaling the yellow contraption. And it was then when my eyes realized the importance of the ground I stood upon. I stomped once, hearing the safe sound of concrete and smelled the atmosphere. An air composed of sounds and bustling, people and high heel clicking, rolling of the r's and lenthier vowels.

Xiao Lang Li, you are in fucking Spain!

Spain, oh how you dazzled my summer during the FIFA, how you defeated the Netherlands (who I still believe played a better game), oh and your beauty in the dark tresses and shapely hips born in rhythm and the flamenco, oh God, the flamenco...it originated here, right?

Maybe it's Columbia I'm referring to, the hips, huh?

"Here we are, Madrid" Sakura announced comfortably sitting by the window, Shouta in between us.  
Touya and Feimei had opted for the two front seats, our driver the least interested in our interest.

"Madrid, indeed" Shouta sighed, stretching as much as he could in the tight space.

"Indeed, Madrid" I repeated inversely, closing my eyes but then remembering the 'scenary'. I looked to my left, past Shouta and towards Sakura. Her frame remained delicate even when her heart had hardened. Her lips remained small and pouty, mustering the simplicity of early days of morning sun. You know, when she liked waking up early. The brass heart-shaped buttons on her light pink jacket secured cold sentiments wisped by the early December.

December embraced new days, where the sun and the moon collided with one another, or in which the formation of two opposite collisions occurred. Sunny days with cold weather, Madrid concrete with I'miusa brand boots, green eyes filling up the sky,  
or skies in which I would happily live under.

"I want to see Two Door Cinema Club"

We all turned to Sakura, whose strangely announced desire sketched curiosity on our morning faces.

"Don't we all" Shouta spoke in his nonchalant position.

"No, I mean, we should, we really should, look" Sakura pointed towards a building plastered with a small moss-colored poster.  
The following could be read: December 1st - 7:00 PM GOODBAR welcomes TWO DOOR CINEMA CLUB - WAVVES - LYKKE LI. Tickets $18 at door $25.

I could feel the essence of youthful caresses flourishing in Sakura's ivory skin, if her hair matched our evening, it would be spent in twists and turns, preferably beside the skin of others before three special performers.

"We don't have the time" Touya's monotoneous reply shrilled my bones and flew out my brain.  
I couldn't remember the last time Touya's orders had gone as planned.

"Well, I do" waves of nonchalance boded with Wavves, conjoining carelessly and pleasantly, as Sakura tested Touya's somewhat brotherly disposition.

But she was greater in heart and knew of youth closer than Touya did, momentarily.  
In her youth, she spoke in thoughts to listen to everything packed in her iPod, and she spoke clearly.

"No you don't" he muttered.

"I always do" she spoke.

"And that's why she's valedictorian" Shouta's playful intentions attempted to control the potential severity in the siblings's words.  
He smiled meekly at Touya, waving childishly when he turned to look at him. Defeated, Touya sighed.

"I'm chaperoning"

My hands shook and clapped in my mind, my lips curved in gratitude for both Sakura and Shouta.  
And this proved most of my life, sitting by the window, observing from the inside as the two take the lead.  
I like the change.

"Looks like we're here" Feimei spoke from the front seat, she turned to me.

We were like sailors on a long, vigorous journey of tugs and turns, waves and salty air. Sakura being the thirstiest, nearly dove off the taxi cab and ran up the steps of our Castlevania-like hotel, vast with antique European architecture and intricate creases of Catholicism.

"Wow, look at this place, it's like...straight out of - "

"Straight outta' Compton! Crazy motherfu - " Sakura's astonishment was shortly cut off by Shouta's plugged ears and functioning iPod, only to be cut short by my hand, becoming a cage for lyrical advisory.

"I really doubt this hotel has any form of association with Niggaz With Attitude"  
I informed him as he protested violently against my now slobbered hand...ew.

"Don't say that. It's N.W.A, old man" Sakura cleverly said, as Touya handed her her luggage while rolling his eyes.

"You're older, weirdo" soon came my reply packed away in my luggage.

"Which makes me correct" she extended her handle on the luggage and headed towards the wide steps of the hotel.  
Shouta remained iPod-ed and lingered behind with Touya and Feimei.

"It makes you bitter"

"And wiser" she always had something at the tip of her tongue.

"With stress and debts, messy children and mid-life crisis', and only sunny memories as sunny as your dress to rely on"

"My dress is blue"

"The skies are blue when the sun is sunny, so by those awful laws of logic we learned in Geometry freshman year, your dress is sunny"  
the architect in me secretly loved Geometry class when fifteen or fourteen. Sakura's eyebrows knitted in the known frustration I had seen in a few of her debates for school (the ones where she got stuck and felt like crying).

Without a witty retort, she said, "I'll have to kiss the brilliance out of you if you don't stop now"

We reached the second set of steps, realizing they were a monstrosity against our mere luggage. Not to mention a pain.

"That sounds improbable" I replied with heaving breaths.

"You're right...and I probably wouldn't like you so much without it" her hands found mine, we found more stairs.  
There was a blush on my face, there was a blush in the sky.

"But the kissing part...we could reconsider?" A drunken smile graced my propostion, and she smiled just as foolishly, leaving me behind.

"Plaza de Aragon..." Sakura silently read, her brows knitting in slight confusion as she caught a glance of the hotel's name, and she spoke of it, "w-wait, this isn't a plaza, and why is it called Aragon when we're in Madrid? This hotel makes absolutely no sense, its nonsense!"  
But within all her accurately pinpointed nonsense, she rounded the steps and rolled her luggage against the flat handicap entrance, finally. Her light blue dress swam along the atmosphere and white tights pronouncing Lewis Carroll's nonsensical Alice in an allusion ironically parallel to her situation.

"Well, keep looking Alice, you might find a way out of this madness" I called out childishly behind her. She turned to me and in the same manners, stuck her small tongue at my comment and began to walk backwards before bumping into the tusk mahogany doors.

"Is she your Alice or your Rabbit, hm?" A sly voice appeared behind my ear, slipping in slithering tones a near riddle I could only expect from Shouta.

And as my feet turned to face the owner, I might as well have remained when approached by honey eyes and coal hair.

"Don't be ridiculous" I mumbled, and still, that mumble melted within each step that Shouta's charismatic grin grew.  
"But if I must answer, would it matter?"

"I suppose not. Either way you'll fall into the madness. Love is madness"  
he stated in pretty words for the insane, strolling alongside as his baggage jerked all the more in contrast with his smooth wording.

"How would you know?" I hardly knew of a single blood in Shouta to love more than his years.

"Well, so I've read" he smiled once more, his crooked lips cracking the wise facade he performed, and he was pulled down by his shoelaces down to the ground, planted in the soil where we all belonged. We each carried our own baggage but we stood next to each other.

"I thought so" my final statement brought us to the entrance of thick trunks, the mahogany doors carved with pious sentiments.

As we arrived, we noticed Sakura on a red Russian arm chair, lazing throughout Fujitaka's conversation with the concierge concerning their keys and room numbers. Yelan stood by his side proudly but always separate. Kouhei mumbled Spanish into his cell phone, a frustration arising from his rolled rrr's and elongated hisses for accents. His hands were clenched when not jittery. Feimei and Touya entered lastly, she flipping through a Spain Vogue magazine nodding or shaking her head regarding approval.  
Touya's dull appearance hardly changed but when glancing at the auburn headed, 5'6" sister of mine.

"It seems there's been a bit of a mishap concerning room management, but we've fixed a bit of it, so for Madrid, Feimei you will be rooming with Yelan" Fujitaka handed a card to Yelan as she nodded.

"Watanabe-san, you and Li-san will be rooming the same"  
a card was handed to me, a glance exchanged with Shouta and a knowing familiar smile of comfort received sealed our arrangements.

"S_akura_, Touya, you two will have your own rooms. Enjoy"  
his smile felt warm with velvet corners for the two siblings that still remained.

"Kouhei and I will be in room 604 if anything may occur" he promptly bowed as his luggage was taken up to his room.  
"Yelan, Kouhei and I must attend a meeting, we'll be back around dinner, perhaps after"

The three announced their departure and left us in the sole company and mostly protection of Touya and Feimei. The two were engaged in their words, hand gestures producing laughter or laughter producing hand gestures, we couldn't follow as outsiders. Their lips moved faster than their thoughts and their eyes fluttered closer and closer until they were shut with happiness (not tears).

"They look nice together, don't you think?" A sweet link of syllables startled my solitude of thoughts.  
Sakura stood next to me, ready to leave for her room but not without delving into the figures that ignored the others.

"The madness has gotten to you, Alice"

"Shut up, Rabbit"  
Sakura's spring connected with my autumn once more, a glint in her eyes, her lips softer than the anticipation of them.  
She left my sight.

Wait.

Rabbit?

I'm your rabbit?

Crystal eyes awaken a practice,

I am your Rabbit

And you are my Alice.

Whether or not these trivial words and heavy eyes sink into my heart before I may escape from the madness...I wanted to be happy with Sakura because her madness was my missing puzzle. The E to my mc squared, then I was the a squared, she the b and when together our hands were the c. But the heaviness in my anchor could only hold on to the pretty soil for too long, and the windy skies would tear me apart and the turbulent waves would wash me out if my hands did not open those pages.  
Mother's pages.

Shouta and I walked in prominent silence to our designated room.  
Prominent might be proper because Shouta smiled gracefully at all the pretty girls that passed our direction.

"Two Door Cinema Club and Madrid, how lucky are we?"  
My rhetorical question brought an inevitable brooding gloom over Shouta's impromptu girl parade.

"Some of us more than others, yes"  
and though the words felt sour, his grinning eyes kept going strong.

I couldn't assume whatever matter it was that occassionally drizzled over his typically polite surface. But in the depth of all the complexities and drama occuring in the past few days, I found the ground to the importance of Sakura Kinomoto to Shouta Watanabe.

"I'm sorry" the words slipped my mind, he appeared alarmed.

But how could I not, in some way, apologize? Sure, I hated pretty boy's guts but that was before I knew he had any. Indeed had Sakura skimmed over my, hypothetically, handsome nose, bright eyes of sympathy, and thin lips of inviting charisma like a cheap, clearance aisle romance novel...I would ask Fate and Irony, Karma and Empathy for a few sick days as well.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry, Syaoran. Sakura's just not the one for me"  
he dismissed my apology with the gentleman he only knew, shaking his head silently.

I understood his words, all but the latter.

"One for me...you sound old" we reached the room and slid the card in; Shouta claimed the bed furnished with red wood, perhaps for some honeymoon misery.

He replied while throwing himself against the bed,  
"You don't have to be forty to believe in soul mates"

I chose the bed beside the windowsill, the sheer curtains cascading on the edge.

"You don't because by forty you're smarter than that"  
his eyes never left the Romantic solid patterns of his bed, they didn't even look at my reply.

"How can you be with someone like Sakura and not believe in love like that?"  
Here's the mystery of Shouta. He'll speak in riddles and answer in clarity through even more puzzles. But sure, that's only on the surface and that doesn't even matter. What intrigues me so much is just how the hell every single trace of bitterness evaporated between us two.  
Are people supposed to be this forgiving?  
Yeah, I think so.

"Someone like..?" I knew he spoke of Sakura, I didn't know what he meant.

He looked towards the windowsill but never at me. He said, "I think...to believe in love like that for Sakura shouldn't have to happen, because to love her would mean to _find _a soul mate, not pretend one" his eyes found mine and then let go. Shouta's hair spread against the bed as he lay on his back.

I didn't speak knowing a part of me agreed and the rest just had to let go. How do you believe in that when it's not real? What is real then, if we can't believe then nothing. Does believing mean soul mates? So then soul mates means Sakura?  
I think therefore I am...oh, fuck off Descartes.

"You should write that down...before Nicholas Sparks does"  
he grinned into the bed with my words.

"And you should read your mother's book, you could learn something"

I grabbed my sweater and headed for the lobby, without another thought.

What was there to learn that I hadn't loved?

Entering the lobby, my steps chimed along the chandelier of too many glasses, each bouncing off the other, creating prisms of color and sound, entirely loud and entirely transperent.  
I instantly searched for the Russian arm chair, familiar with the pretty face absorbed in some pages. It was that red cover.  
And that name.

Sakura turned the page, her eyes dimmed by whatever broken words nearly brought her to tears. If she cried, I think it would make me happy, I think it would make me angry.  
She would be crying for someone only I knew at best.

As I neared her, she became aware of my discretion and looked up, her eyes coming back to life. Is that what reading does? Does literature kill you page after page?  
Do words and sentences build a somber architecture in your mind?  
Even happy books made me sad.

"Syaoran..." She sighed without worry, she smiled without highlights.

"You busy?" She said no.

"You need to read this!" She stood up, the bold, red book clasped tightly in her hand, securing all the feelings in her grip.

"I don't know, you see - " but she kept talking about my mother's brilliant prose, and about her windows and how she could she everything and sometimes the house needed a few renovations because it was falling apart but on special days, when everything was kept a secret, the closet doors were closed and she couldn't see the skeletons...just happiness.

"Is that so?" She said it was so. In fact, she said many more adorable admirations, her lips moved word after word and her eyes sunk into the sadness with pleasure, she spoke until I could no longer listen because I didn't want to. The sounds emitting from her lips were of inconvenience. No, they didn't meet in Singapore, it was Vietnam, he wasn't married, Mother's creating fictional webs there, but yes, and it was a balcony.  
Only it was raining.

The rain didn't make an appearance because the tears compensated, moment after moment, night after night of unfinished math homework.

"Syaoran?"

Maybe if I tore a page Mother would stop hurting too.

"Syaoran..?"

Or if the book was left outside on a rainy day, the ink would  
drip, drip, drip until her heart was clean and healthy.

"Syaoran" her tender voice cleared the calamity instantly.  
Sakura's hand ran through my unintentionally tousled locks, she smiled at my reaction, another smile.

"Are you OK?"

I thought but it's all I've been doing.

"Yeah. We should buy those tickets, I saw a venue selling nearby, shall we?"

Sakura tugged on her light pink jacket and shivered in her flats. She nodded gently and blushed like our first words had remembered when I held her hand.  
We exited the lobby and entered the gray mood of our skies.

"The weather's so pretty! It's been so long since Tomoeda's felt like this, I do miss it" Sakura sighed into the cool, minty crisp of early December. The sky frowned in gray patterns but the ripeness in the atmosphere kissed Sakura's hair, her eyes blinking with content. Her earlier description I had mindlessly muted vanished, only leaving a sour taste in my mind.

"Yeah, it feels like it. As far as I can remember though, Decembers in Tomoeda have always been a little mediocre" as far as I knew  
(which was about 16.9 years, yes, I knew early on), Tomoeda's weather paled against any other, but never in the summer.  
We were a city by the coast.

"Syaoran...are we having a conversation about the weather?"

A grin graced my face, realizing anything could be of interest with spring eyes.  
We may as well have continued our discussion over the explosions in the sky and it wouldn't have mattered at all.

"I guess it always goes back to small talk, hm?"

"Does this mean we've run out of things to say?"  
Her head tilted to the side, her eyes laced with worry.

"It's the small things that make all the big difference"  
stated in a Hallmark tone, she giggled, covering her lips from a hidden "you're so cheesy, Syaoran"

More steps were taken, reminding me of our walks in Tomoeda. To the Cafe, midnight run-ins, 'I need to talk to you/I'm sorry' walks, they all seemed years old. These sentiments clogged in me reminded all of reality of lovelier days with sunny skies and sunny dresses, doe-eyed hearts, soft, pearly fingers waiting to promise moments for happiness.  
They all fit with you. Hands fit with hands.

"How much further is this place Syaoran? I'm getting tired"  
her Alice legs kept walking without a hint of tiresome words.

"Don't act like we've been walking forever"

"With you, forever is only seconds away"

I deadpanned at her corny remark, tightening my grip on her hand until she jerked away.  
"Ow! Neh, blockhead"

"You're not allowed to say things like that"

Sakura was allowed many things.

I just wasn't sure how much her words could impact me without making me question their liability.

"I do as I please"

Oh do you? You do, I've seen the pink ribbons and the lacy dresses too short for windy days, and they kiss your hair and hips elegantly, whispering secrets of rebellion without consideration only to be worn on days where feeling beautiful was all you wanted to do.  
You did as you pleased, love.

And so she held my hand. 

* * *

"What do you mean you forgot to buy my ticket?"

Yes, Touya. It's a little friend called Karma.

"It's not like that! They were sold out, I'm not even kidding"  
Sakura's shrill desperation for her brother's trust began to itch.

"Oh right, I'll try believing that" he grumbled, arms crossed, lips tight.

"You must...unless you want to go back and check, I warn you though, you'll return just as we have" she then tried reasoning, though she knew logic hardly ever interferred with his brotherly instincts.

"You mean with three tickets?"

I saw the frustration in Sakura, I did! Just now.

"Don't be stupid Touya"  
she sighed, rubbing her temple, hoping things wouldn't jeapordize tonight.

"Touya, if you'd like, maybe...perhaps, since there are no tickets for us, we could go out to dinner? I saw a wonderful restuarant nearby, it looked cozy and hardly expensive at all. We could! Since the others will be busy as well..." A small, uncomfortable squeak came from Touya's hotel room door, nearly as audible as the door's creaking. Feimei's unexpected presence appeared, calling Touya in all her auburn headed makeshift daintiness (perhaps emulated from Sakura because it was news to me). I hadn't seen much of Feimei as Touya had, and it only dawned on me at that moment, particularly this moment, that the two older souls may have intertwined.

Touya's fidgeting eyes struck Sakura as the main vulnerability, a loose thread waiting to be pulled and pulled until every secret scrambling beneath his tailored suits and occassional baseball-t's fell into the delicate, though strategic, lacy fingers of hers.

"Besides...even if we did manage a ticket for you, what should Feimei do? Everyone else will be out. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't like being alone in a foreign city for the first time" Sakura's sly intentions were too visible, they could not have slipped by Touya's own trickery, but because she presented files of pure facts, the very firm and decisive Touya Kinomoto had to reconsider.

"Alright then. Jesus, how on Earth should I say this? Ahem, OK, I got it. I, dear God please bare with me, I _trust_ you three to _behave_. A behavior which would automatically imply an absolute zero tolerance of drugs - "

"Got it" we both nodded and checked the list of invisible Touya requirements.

"Alcohol"

"Right" Sakura nodded.

"Sex"

"...yeah" I nodded (eh).

"Talking to strangers"

"Alright, Touya, we're not eight" she mumbled with the becoming list of restrictions.

"Hitchhiking"

"We get it" her mumbles persisted.

"Dancing, interacting, or glancing flirtatiously with others" and so did his list.

"I know, I know! Ugh, we haven't gone over this list since junior high" Sakura huffed lightly in a haze of pre-teen years of shorter hair and mousy eyes.  
I remembered her all the more untouchable, a thin girl with kaleidoscope eyes still deciding whether or not she liked lace or cotton, patterns or solids, and pink or blue.

"And that was during the time that awful Taneguchi asked you to the winter formal"  
Touya's eyes set against his hard work.

"What, Taneguchi actually went through with it?"  
This old bit was news to me.

Sakura rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, glancing at her tapping shoes, she was reminded of a much more important matter.

"Anyway! We have to go refresh and stuff, so come on, Syaoran" my wrist was held by the girl that once tried dyeing her hair blonde (just like Ayumi Hamasaki), once wore lipstick for the first time to the winter formal (and all the boys loved her more that night), once decided that eyeshadow was not for her (after that school picture incident).  
A flood of details I had forgotten from junior high carried me away through the corridors, forgetting Sakura had, at one point, listened to the radio.

"I keep forgetting how different you were in junior high"

Her cheeks flushed in the mild difference her experimental days had displayed.

"I was young and reckless" she said.

"What happened?"

"Columbia" and so we reached my room, her last word plaguing my mind in unfulfilled curiosity.  
Columbia? Like, the country? Or like, it's coffee or cocaine? Shakira? Hips speaking truths? A Columbian boy of fair tans and ruffled hair?  
Columbia.

"Columbia..."

"Yes" her enigmatic response gave me nothing, though it should have been obvious were it not for my dense luxuries.

She flipped through the items of her purse, and once the red book was in sight, she fished it out, clutched it with determination.

You need to read this, she said.

Other thing were said too.

I muted other things.

And she smiled and she left.

I couldn't concern myself with her lips when the redness was in command. I didn't want to touch anything bloodier than those ill-reminiscent pages. It reeked of foul happiness when everything felt real. The spine was a support for fickle moments I knew I was in.  
But I held it in my hands, still standing at the doorway.

_Chasing Singapore_ by Yelan Li.

Why not a pen name, Mother? Why not a shield to keep you from melting into the fictional reality you molded? Because you still love him? Please...it's been years. Do you miss his voice? Do you want him to know your ink, read the words aloud and cry so loud countries far from his reach can hear his eyes? Maybe then he'll remember all the love he left behind.

Urges itched in my heart.

Urges to tear a page and then another and another.

Urges to scratch out with red pen the words:  
love, eyes, sentiment, miss, baseball, gone, memory, and distance from the book.

Urges to teleport.

Urges to disappear.

Pushing aside all the mindless violence in my mind, I slid in my card and noted a missing companion.  
Something told me Sakura had mentioned the words 'Shouta' and 'gym' earlier.  
It clicked.

I cleared my bed for the wounds that would be opened.  
And I lay in bed, on my back, my eyes counted the pretend stars in the ceiling.  
They were dull and gray, a premonition of my actions.  
Fuck this.

I opened the red villain and pretended I was an outsider.

_June some day 1987 _

_The red dress did nothing for my pale figure. The balcony of strangers stood still for a moment, and no one else noticed. My hands held on to a drink I was allergic to, so when we met, I sneezed and itched on his suit, the same one sleeping in the closet. _

_"Something insignificant is being said. Answer politely" the man with stained yellow teeth always smiled irrelevance at my allowing disposition.  
Why do I always smile? _

_"Yes, it seems so" I'm out of place with this face. I've got nothing to my name.  
A mere writer in the hands of a silly father. _

_But you always looked sad. _

_And so when everyone left, I didn't. _

_The balcony was yours. Alone, you drank more than I assumed you could, quoting poets. You were an open house, just like you said Woolf said, but then I said it was Roethke. "Wrong, wrong, I know my poets!" I smiled because you were so foolishly handsome, and I couldn't help the liquor on your straight teeth and or the mess in your chestnut hair. _

_Something insignificant was said._

_For too many years. _

I skipped pages because mother's indifferent happiness was uncomfortable.

_Who knows how long I've loved you_

_You know I love you still _

_Will I wait a lonely lifetime _

_If you want me to, I will _

_Oh, you still sing sweet simplicities to our love. You wipe his forehead when the baseball's done enough. Do you miss it? I miss that, I miss Singapore, I miss the clean smell of your cheeks, the prominent way you used to speak. So I find myself tearing at the seams. I tear at your shirts and the stupid ties that never fit all the stupid fabrics that made you.  
But you've always been suited for my hate, I remember. _

_"Oh, Huan, what do you think father will say when you show up like that to his funeral?"_

_I blinked and remembered to wear black. _

_"Your father would hate anything I wear, what does it matter?" _

_He grinned, if his heart was hurting, he didn't lie. _

_"You don't look sad" _

_He blinked and remembered. _

_"I am" _

_"You don't look sad enough" _

_"Father said if I cried, he would come back to haunt me" _

_I kissed Bai's forehead, kissing my words into his brain and smiling a pretense into his eyes. They were red. _

_"Then maybe you should, then he would come back" and he left. Bai asked to leave with him. "Don't, he needs to be alone, sweetie" but what was it? Did he cry? Cry because his father preferred the comfort of a noose than the preaching sentiments of a thirty-five year-old who's sadness was of the same milk? Did he cry because each speck in my eye faded every other day? I couldn't reach him. I never could. But he just let go more every day. _

_I know he loves/d me, many moments on the balcony. When we both were sad together. And now our sadness was a split of an intellectual and an architect. He build homes within his mind but never for the two. Not today or yesterday. Tomorrow?  
The little birds of my cage would chirp.  
Tomorrow.  
Bai would smile. _

_And so I kissed more words onto his cheek and prayed the loneliness was fixed, or shared. "What's wrong?"  
Oh, everything. _

I turned the page and the next and the next until my hands were full, and my eyes would hurt, and my lips would squirm.  
I felt for Bai and I felt for Huan. Huan...what happiness do your letters posses?

I would have cried were it not for the prose, I would have cried were it not for the fictional moments, I would have cried and so I did.

But only a little because like Robert Smith once advised me in the 7th grade, boys don't cry.

My fingers swept the happy moments of the book, touching every word, remembering.  
But even that hurt.

And so when my eyes had nothing left to do, I slept the negativity away, because sometimes, that's all you can do.

"You've been sleeping so much!"

Sweet lips brought reality into my eyes. Sakura kneeled beside my bed, her hands tucked in beneath her tilted face, rosy lips sealed with concern.

"You think so?" I spoke into consciousness, noticing another figure in the room.  
And a proper one too, since it was Shouta's room as well.

Sakura nodded her wavy locks onto my bed. Her eyes dressed in worry for my sleepy state.  
Of course, anyone could vouch for the goodness and well-being of sleep, insomnia was definitely a thief.  
But when the greatness is too great, are you missing out? I, Syaoran Li, was missing out.

"I wasn't aware"

"Because you've been asleep" she cutely replied.

Shouta's outline became defined as he reached for his purple Vans.

"The taxi cab should be here in twenty minutes, you should get ready soon"  
his advice brought me to my feet, as Sakura noticed the red book by the windowsill.

She didn't say a word, but her soul was smiling and so was she. I didn't understand how my unhappiness mended her happiness.  
But then I felt her hand on my shoulder and the world was right again.

"I'll be waiting in the lobby, 'kay?" I nodded and she left downstairs.

I got up and headed for the restroom, a fresh shirt in my hand, and thoughts of a steady taxi ride and pumped hearts for tonight.

After washing my face, my teeth decided for some treatment.

"So, the deed has been done, I assume" Shouta's cryptic words pointed to an object I couldn't, from my position, see but I could blindly assume.  
And so I nodded my teeth against my toothbrush. But all he heard was silence.

"I meant the book..._Chasing Singapore_" he repeated my suspicions.

The new shirt fitted all my insecurities and secrets comfortably, and of course, it only spoke in digitalized fabrics of Lennon.  
Woo, Lennon.

Back on subject, "I know. And yeah...it's a trip, man" I sighed the last bits.

"Good"

I entered the room, confused again.

Was he applauding my newly inducted preoccupation?  
The opening of flesh purely for the satisfaction of another? Pfft.

"I guess" I stretched and reached for my brown RVCA sweater, heading for the door.

"I meant it" he repeated, following my exit.

"Me too" I nonchalantly replied, hiding nothing.

Shouta allowed a lopsided grin, pressing the elevator down button and slipped into his black jacket. I had a strange, and I mean fucking strange (not _just _any kind of strange) connection, friends? Okay. We reached the lobby with ease. I searched for the familiar Russian chair on Spanish grounds. Of course, her lively eyes sat quietly on the chair. Glancing our direction, we two saw eye to eye. Standing up, her appearance became of carnal instincts to my empty hands. Sakura, may I finally allow myself to describe, bared the loveliest of shoulders, soft skin stretched against bones of charm, they could only hide beneath her honey locks. It's safe to say Sakura blossomed a hidden feminine allure in her youthful body, an older Lolita of my own (had I been much, much, much older, though attractive).

But perhaps the silkiest of attributes blessed upon her healthy body appeared to be her lengthy legs (for a 5'5" height). Through years of tumbling and JV cheer leading, shadows of toned memories accumulated fairly in her, but despite the strenuous work-outs, they kept their Victorian smooth appeal. It's been mentioned that Sakura's beauty speaks for itself, but thanks to the proximity of our circumstances (and being a healthy, sane boy, nearly man), one couldn't help but swim in the thought of her sensual skin. I apologize.

"I think the cab is here, we should get going" her lips interrupted my steamy truths, as I saw it anyway.

She carefully tugged onto her dark blue, over-sized sweater, brimmed with mustard stripes. Her fall khaki shorts pinned with large brown buttons complimented her solid brown leggings, as her black boots elevated her by a centimeter. Sakura stood before us, wavy strands left alone, bright eyes glazed with a thin addition of eyeliner, and nails hygienically polished, of course, it's a sure thing.  
Shouta's heart could have been beating in accordance to mine.  
You had to be blind otherwise.

"Mhm" and "Y-yeah" shy with teenage dreams, we both stuttered and mumbled, profusely in an exchange of similar comfort.

The crisp feel our skin crossed on the way out hit us like epiphanies for the divorced.  
People exited and entered the hotel, beyond our existences and proceeded to converse.  
I couldn't eavesdrop, even if I knew Español (or Gallego).

"Syaoran, cab's here, let's go" the closer Sakura's hands were kept in mine, the longer our heart's held one another, and they couldn't part, not from light and sounds. We held hands under the cover of darkness throughout the cab drive. My hands could not let go. My thoughts could not let go. Red pen markings branded that red book. I annotated reluctance my soul felt in dividing all my memories into chapters (and mine were about eight). On the side, the ink whispered "I hated you so much that day" because it was now a distant feeling.  
At the bottom, I left words that puzzled me, like when Huan said, "If you leave tonight, it's all you'll ever know" Liar.  
I bet he knows so much more.

"Hoe! Look at that line!" The endearing vocabulary of Sakura Kinomoto erased my melancholy as I noted her very accurate observation. The entrance had, but a few seconds ago, opened and lovers of most races (but mostly Spanish) began to enter. Blue tights, Oxfords, blue eyes, elongated noses, fresh t-shirts, monotone kids, loud kids, all a varying assortment of humanity crowded into the venue.

"Aquí es, Sala Heineken! Que se la pasen bien jóvenes, pero recuerden, la cocaína es ilegal, hecho? Bah! Es broma"  
our driver huskily bantered with the nonexistent humor in our foreign tongues. All but Shouta, he chuckled lightly and replied something Spanish and handed him the fair. Reaching the line, the nerves began to shake Sakura by the hands. She danced, involuntarily, about the line, earning a small glance from spectators that needed a clear excuse to awe at her.

"Relax, or else the nerves will eat you up whole" Shouta said, his calm composure collecting spectators of his own.  
She nodded firmly, her eyes determined to claim victory. I couldn't understand her destructive shivers, but I knew a surge of energy would soon blow us into the atmosphere as we lingered in the hearts of youth and abandonment tonight.

"We better get close to the stage" Shouta mumbled.

"I'm a professional crowd surfer, you've got absolutely nothing to worry about"  
the one redeeming ability in my otherwise panorama of mediocrity could indeed save our suffocating, fateful night.

"Please don't let go of my hand, then" Sakura's voice revealed the rigid guise of her firm position.  
Was she that nervous? Where were the nerves anyway? In her heart? Or her lips? Her chattering teeth or meek disposition?  
No, her experience shook and developed.

"Sakura...correct me if I'm wrong but...is this your first show?" A small blush tagged along my words and marked her hidden cheeks. Her crystals flustered, her hands played with one another as she replied, "Well, there was this one time Tomoyo and I saw Ayumi Hamasaki live in the fourth grade?"

Silence.

And then.

One.

Two.

Three (glance).

"Bahahaha-hahaha-ha-ha-haha-ha!"

It was a loud and close mirth that missed Sakura's pouty lips, but certainly claimed our own.

"I must admit, you did make a pretty cute twelve year-old Ayumi Hamasaki, now that I remember" Shouta concluded his laughter.  
Sakura itched at her hands, rubbed them together, perhaps for a comfort in her own temporary skin, but also because she felt embarrassed.

But why embarrassed and why flustered, love? You're a pretty blond, a copper, an auburn, a raven, a honey like your waves intended.  
So, stop kissing your eyes with embarrassment!

Although again...endearing.

"I was thirteen" she mumbled into her hand.

"And still listening to Hamasaki? You've certainly come a long way"  
I squeezed her warm hands before the embarrassment in a foreign place, with strange eyes and long lines continued.

"I suppose I should be proud" she smiled into my shoulder, another kiss.

Shouta would never look.

The line began to move significantly and within seconds we reached the entrance.  
My eyes reached an assortment of youth clad in mod or carelessness, or upright fashionable, and us.  
The main area of grinding, jumping, dancing, singing, touching, loving, smiling concentration crowded more and more by the second.  
Roadies still prepped the last minute instructions, while the lights remained dimmed. People grew anxious. Young people (mostly).  
A riot could ensue, seriously, I could try my best. But I remained composed intact with cherry blossom hands, Shouta lingering in our presence.

"How the hell do we get all the way over there?" Shouta's question pointed to the bones bundled up by the stage, the exact preparation for crowd surfing (although...I'm not so sure exactly how much intense action you could get from a Two Door Cinema Club show, then again they are Irish...I'm kidding).

"This is the part where you hold my hand and listen to every word I say" Sakura's startled eyes fell into the tenth grade feminist paper she wrote. "And succumb to man's every demand? Never!" Her palms left mine in a minor tiff of light offense.

"The nerve of men nowadays" a dramatic Shouta sniffed the air in a mock 'hmph' for Sakura's lighthearted defense.  
"You said it" her smiles evaporated the misunderstandings polluting our crowded bubble, her found hands provoked a roll in my eyes.

"Stop acting silly. People will think you're mad" I flicked her nose and returned to the necessary instructions, "anyway, we're stealing our way inside. So, expect complaints, but utter one apology and this - " I shook our hands, "gone. Completely. No more. Yes?"  
Sakura nodded. Shouta yawned.

I received acknowledgment.

"Generally, people tend to be supportive of this, but just in case...shove" upon my last word, I delved into the persistent crowd of Sala Heineken.  
As expected, there was a curse word or two, more than likely in Spanish (because what the fuck is a 'hijo de puta'?").  
But we managed a spot right at the center of the crowd, directly from the stage.

But people got antsy.  
Hands shook and stretched, mindlessly propelling a broken engine for stubborn bodied in impatient restrictions.

"Come on!" Shouta finally joined a previous chorus of impatient spectators.

"Any time now!"

"Boo! Apúrense, que me aburro!"

"Two Door Cinema Club!"

"Cinema Club! Cinema Club! Cinema Club!"

Chant, chant, stomp. The bodily patterns began, the bodily actions of the petite soul beside me began. Sakura's excitement reached the lid or surface. She clapped her seventeen year-old hands, a minor friction of anticipation her harbored love for indie, pop, dance, guitar, and rhythm thought of. She would kiss the musical notes endlessly were it not for the oddity she felt for kissing in public.

The stage lights dimmed and then appeared once more.

A cue? Perhaps?

Fuck yes!

And Three Figures graced the stage.

"Sorry 'bout the wait, but we're Two Door Cinema Club!"

Her trembling invaded my heart, and then the notes settled in. 

* * *

"That was amazing!" Sprightly in the night that secluded three youths from sleepiness, Sakura's lively words encompassed, perhaps, the only shared sincerity in our first Madrid stay.

The concert had ended about thirty minutes ago, and after bustling through the crowds and having our hearts lightly cry to Lykke Li  
(Sakura's, anyway), the three of us walked down the busy, cold streets of Plaza España. There were too many smokers, elegantly flaunting their early kick start towards a risky lifestyle, and there were too many girls without love on the streets alongside boys who thought to be men. Their arms linked, their love completely missing the 'X' marked on their chest and falling through the cracks on the sidewalk, becoming dirty and alone.  
I could feel the tension of the bright morning with happy tourists melt into the sneering lips of our dark evening.  
I fit in too well.

"Amazing? That was great! When 'Love Out Of Lust' played, I thought we were all going to grow wings and fly off into Never Land" Shouta's theatrical antics flew from his words and into his feet, as he twirled onto a light pole.

"...alright, so you did buy the green 'x' from that guy then"  
my suspicion concerning a drug dealer during the event arose once more, as I playfully (but you never know) questioned Shouta.

"What? Hell no! I mean twenty for a pop? Fuck that!" Shouta shot back, in assumed pretense.

"Well, aren't you a smart buyer, and anyway, Peter Pan didn't have wings"  
I replied in regards to his former statement.

"But Tinker Bell did, and what better way to represent a night as magical as tonight's with a fictional fairy?"  
Sakura began to walk backwards, her hands warming each other, her lips dancing in the rhythm one could feel.

"All fairy's are fictional"  
I spoke as I extended my hand into hers, reeling in her body against me. Warmth.

"You know what's not fictional tonight? This!" Shouta extended his arms across the beauty in a bright city. He walked ahead of us, bumping into windows of bars but never allowed entrance. Two more months, buddy!

"He's right, we need to take advantage, starting...now!"  
Before I knew of any plans, Sakura dashed from my reach and joined Shouta, she pulled his arm and dragged him into a nearby bar.  
That became my alarm.

Think about it, Xiao Lang:

Loud setting

Rowdy drunks

Game night (by the looks of it).

Where the fuck did the bouncer go? They're seventeen, Jesus! Where the hell does common sense stand tonight? Well, certainly not by the entrance. My thoughts brewed a worthy batch of worry on my way to the entrace, one last glance at the neon lights and I felt like a parent. Awesome.

Missing any sort of barrier, I carelessly walked in and immediately spotted the clumsily reckless girl.  
Shouta sat at the bar close to Sakura, a local with honey freckles and sandy hair chirped away into Sakura's smile, pushing a drink into her hand.  
She would smile and say no.

"Sakura!" I called through the rough sounds of guitars and heavy drum solos.

She twirled gently at the sound of her name, her eyes flashing with mild guilt but tender relief.  
She ran towards me, as if forgetting the interruption caused by her two feet.

"Syaoran! Good, you followed!"  
She giggled into my shoulder as she gravitated closer in my arms.

"Uh, well, yeah, what the hell was that about?" The hell in my sentence concerned pure diction, free of true conviction  
(just a mindless, a bit concerned term, for now).

Eyes casted down, lips fumbling, and an eventual smile suited Sakura's countenance.  
She glanced at Shouta whose attention had turned to a brunette with sharp eyes.  
She giggled and twirled her hair. Her brown boots shook with delight.  
I bet she liked foreigners.

"I'm really sorry about that, but I mean, listen, don't you ever get those feelings where you have to do something and if you don't you feel like you might vanish into useless particles of dissolved sadness?" Her rambling was cuter than Easter cupcakes.

"You mean like an impulse and regret?"  
I replied, allowing a smile to melt my frown.

Her eyes widened. She smiled right back.

"I knew those feelings had terms" with grinning lips, she leaned forward and grinned all her sentiments onto mine.  
I could have sworn I felt an 'L' or maybe even an 'O', both coming close to a 'V' and 'E'. You feel it too?

"Yes...so, Shouta looks happy.  
Maybe there was a reason for your impulsivity"

Sakura's eyes perked knowing I may be right. Not fate.

"Even subconsciously am I selflessly generous, hm?" She flashed her lucky cards at me, her teeth baring naked lighthearted tones.

"Don't push it" I linked our hands together and walked towards Shouta. He sat on a stool, smiling politely at the clumsy, visibly older, brunette that laughed and waved her hand in protest, denying whatever humorous insult Shouta may have managed to sneak in.

"No, no es cierto, fue sin querer!"  
Her girlish foreign words giggled into his sweater, as he shrugged and replied in her language.

She nodded and noticed Sakura and me standing a bit awkwardly by Shouta.  
Her lips stiffened a bit, but melted as she took a gulp of her drink.  
Her bright pink eye shadow indicated rebellion.

"Oh hey, um, she's great! She's a sophomore in college with a girlfriend, but, she likes boys too...damn! What is it with college girls, it's wonderful" Shouta's fast-paced words turned into sighs of delight, as he sunk into his stool and the girl waved a goodbye, slipping a napkin into Shouta's hand.

"Men" Sakura huffed, turning towards the exit as I vocally agreed, though managed to wink at Shouta's fortunate nights.  
He grinned and nodded, all shame lost.

We stood up and realized sneaking drinks into our system were not nearly as simple as sneaking into an unsupervised bar.  
Besides, the night could unfold many more tales.

But our fun was soon cut in half with the familiar ringtone that vibrated in Sakura's bag.

"Yes? Oh, hey dad, what is it?"  
A pause in her lips and mumbles in her ear.

"Oh, ten already? Sorry, we forgot"  
she nodded her head as she checked her Hello Kitty watch. Indeed ten thirty-five.

"Um alright, we'll be there. Love you, bye" she hung up her phone and with deafening steps, she subtly sighed, leaning against my shoulder.  
Deflated and unhappy, Sakura's lively disposition plummeted.

"What happened?" I asked with careful tones.

She grasped her left wrist, wringing it gently and then muttering an 'ow'.

Sakura said, just for her own ears, "I knew there was a reason it hurt" as she massaged her superstitious wrist.  
And the fear sunk in my throat, traveling down and toward my gut. Did I know of bad news?

"Well, the...our, um, this trip it's been, eh, well canceled"  
her sulking words crashed around, splashing the rich soil around me and tarnishing the blossoming garden.  
Why? We just started! Is it Mother? No, no.

"What! Why?"  
Shouta's disappointment beat mine vocally, his eyes upset with the last night in European soil.

Sakura fumbled with her thoughts, once a convivial of adjectives, now a messy closet of poorly organized archives, in search of the adequate phrasing. But she could only hope.

"It seems that...the BBC has postponed the film agreement they had with your mom, we tried to make more arrangements but they decided on another book right now..."

It felt a bit unfair. A bit uncertain. A bit betrayed. How the fuck is your book not good enough? I cried and I have cried for you already...and still, you make her sad by splattering all about her mind and into pages and still...even a book of your isn't enough. I guess we just haven't suffered.

"Come, let's go" my stiff command brings Sakura's steps behind mine and soon Shouta's.  
We walk in a familiar silence, groaning internally, aware that all our experiences have dispersed with a simple 'no'.

Blocks later, we sit at a bench by the corner of so and so street because who cares, I don't need to memorize names anymore.  
The taxi cab promised us warmth ten minutes ago.  
It's late.

I feel a small tug on my jacket and turn to look at the cause. She sits there, by my side, shivering in the interrupted joy. But she smiles, clinging on to the shredded bits of hope. Sakura says, "You know what I liked about today?" I shrugged.

She hummed, her tongue speaking of notes and melodies,  
"Let's make this happen, girl, we're gonna show the world that something good can work and it could work for you-ooh-ooh, and you know that it will~"

I gave up and smiled at her foolish attempts, as she sprung to her feet and lightly danced to the lyrics of Two Door Cinema Club. I couldn't help it.

"Let's get this started, girl, we're movin' up, we're movin' up, it's been a lot to change but you-ooh will always get what you want~"  
I sang with her, standing up and grabbing her hands in a poor attempt of a waltz or slow dancing (which fit neither Sakura or the song).

"It took a little time to make a little better, it's only going out, just one thing then another you kno-ow, you kno-ow!~"  
Shouta joined our impromptu musical, completely disregarding sulking and moaning as an option.

Sakura giggled as she said, "You know, our lives might as well be a musical, if we keep doing this"  
she went back to the bench, but soon the taxi cab arrived.

"If it's anything like...well, never mind, I just realized I don't like musicals"  
I said only to earn a nudge from Sakura.

"Come on!" Shouta announced our departure from inside the cab.  
We both entered, a feeling of closure and yet disappointment fleeting in our minds.

"Just, whatever happens Syaoran, remember you had fun, 'kay? And that...your mother's writing is too good for those 'bloody bastards' anyway" she lightly spoke into my ear, leaning against my shoulder. All the thoughts to tear pages and wash away ink...they remained but they coexisted neatly with the thought that Mother loved me and Feimei and Fanren and Fuutie and Shiefa.  
I'll miss you another day, perhaps. 

* * *

Where are you?

Sleep, you selfish thief, where have you gone?  
Are you by the curtains serenading the moon or begging for forgiveness?  
But more importantly, why aren't you with me!

I stood up from my disheveled bed, the blankets have been defeated from a restless argument in which words were useless, and I emerged victorious in the most bittersweet of battles. Sleep, you vulnerable romantic.

The clock read 2:00 AM but my thoughts ignored it.  
I reached for my bottled water but found the refreshment to no avail.  
Where had my mind gone? I remember arriving back to the hotel, bidding Sakura goodnight (and tastefully discovering she does prefer cherry lip balm over strawberry lip gloss), washing away my worries, and pretending to sleep, for three straight hours apparently. And still...even when I had arrived safely to the hotel, even when I had managed to search for Mother's presence, I could not find her. I worried because she may have cried her eloquent thoughts into poetic sadness and delved into the depths we couldn't bring her back from that time.  
Maybe that book could seal the contract.

Fuck it.

Walking out into the hallway, I carefully closed the door so to not wake Shouta's snoring ass up, and began my search without a true goal.

But as the hallway's lavender carpet continued, I realized I ached for the soul of another.  
For the body of warm feelings and sensitive eyes. I looked for the number I was sure belonged to Sakura.

'506...506...506? ...506!'

I inhaled and didn't breathe for about five minutes (just kidding).  
My feet remained planted a little too firmly on the carpet, itching for a sure response.  
To knock or not to knock? Did you ever ask yourself that, Shakespeare?

But I exhaled, sighing in the reality of 2:00 AM bodily desires, one of which would be sleep.  
Of course, like in every thought I could have daydreamed about, I heard a stirring in 506.  
I heard footsteps. And so I remained. Step, step, step, step, unlock...

"S-Syaoran..?" Her lovely waves appeared, sleepy eyes rubbed against Sakura's smooth palm, her silk nightgown reminded me of the dangers that could ensue with our late night company. But no, no, no, she's not like that, and yes, you're a boy, you are naturally like that but the point is that she isn't and that's final! OK? OK.

"Er, well, yeah...hi" I waved despite my apparent confusion and sudden lack of assumed confidence. Her brows furrowed in a parallel confusion, but she resigned and allowed for a sleepy smile. She tugged on her cotton-blue, silk night-gown, unwillingly revealing a bit more skin, her pearly smooth chest inviting me, oh, wait, no, that's her inviting me.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" She stepped aside allowing me entrance. Her room was definitely bigger than mine. The mustard sofa was under an invasion of Sakura's pink pillows and stuffed animals, underneath lay the homework I had completely forgotten about. It seemed she would be way ahead in Calculus, again.

"Do you need a glass of water? Is Shouta okay? What's wrong? Please, take a seat, oh sorry about the mess, I secretly can't stand being away from home" her hands ushered me to the sofa, as she referred to the stuffed animals while they were shoved onto the glass coffee table. She reached for a glass of water, and handed me the remote control. I passed on any late night viewings. Her eyes ruffled with her sudden appearance, her hands began to mess with her hair in last minute attempts to beautify whatever sleep managed to untame. And I couldn't help but carve into the details that framed Sakura's exquisite features. Her long, thin nose suited her doe-eyed fields of green, the lips that she had definitely gotten from Alberto pouted naturally without intent, her chin prim and soft...and I couldn't succumb to the threat that her soft body posed, not in its bare condition.

"Neh, Syaoran? Are you okay?"  
Her frail concern woke me up, aching away the boiling desire I desperately tried to blush away.  
But it was all I did.

"Oh, y-yeah, just...I couldn't sleep, so I didn't know where to go and well, here I am"  
the sheepish explanation I gave her melted within her reach pleasantly.

"I see...well, if it helps, I couldn't really sleep either, it's a little hard to all by myself in a strange place" What the hell! It's like she's practically inviting you, Syaoran! Alright, little wolf, think! This is Sakura, not...not some late night dream you know would never happen because dream girls are teases. Besides, isn't this better?

Her crystals yawned.

Yep.

"At least you're not alone anymore?"  
I gave her that, unable to think of anything in conversational skills at 2:00 AM.

"Yeah, hey do you want to, well, you know, we could - "  
her blush initiated too many thoughts, and so I cut them short.

"Sakura! I-I can't! Well, no, I can, it's cool with me, but I mean, think about it, is this what you really want? Sure, I like you, a lot and everything, and you like me, yeah? Well that's all good stuff but maybe this is too soon for you and it probably is, so let's just stay and - "  
a pillow shot my words back into my mouth. Reverse word throw-up.

"Dirty pervert! What have you been thinking? I was going to ask if you wanted to stay up with me"  
She laughed and fell onto her back as she landed on the mustard-honey sofa. Her arms hugging her waist, securing the laughter for herself.  
Cheeks flushed, eyes tickled, Sakura composed herself and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The blush did not leave. Aren't I a little too old to be blushing?  
Ffffffuuuuu -

"Sorry" I mumbled, shoving my face into one of her cat stuffed toys.  
The plush did not settle the blush.

"It's fine, I just don't know why that's the first thing you would assume, I mean, it's not like we've thought about it" she yawned, flopping her petite frame against the plethora of plush. Her legs stretched on the sofa, her lovely, lengthy, legs.  
Damn excessively short night gowns.

"What are you talking about, I think about it all the time"  
my casual conversation began, as another stuffed animal was unwillingly shoved at my face, followed by a grumbling, "Syaoran!"

The room swallowed the silence and found a small comfort in plushies and mustard colored cushions.  
Sakura lay on the sofa, our legs nearly intertwined from our opposite positions. But she always moved.

"Why can't you sleep?" Her question was my own.

"I don't know"

"Yes, you do" her persistence may have worked.

"I think it has to do with all this...stupid family shit"  
I sighed the last three words.

"Like? Maybe it's not as stupid as you think"

There was another pause, too many in my head, I wasn't sure what to tell her.

"It's my dad. I guess I miss him, still, sometimes and when I was reading Mother's book, it felt like everything in me was flooding and well, there's just absolutely nothing I can do about it"

Silence between my words and silence suffocating the room.  
Nothing.

But then there was skin, warm, soft skin, warmer than any sentiment coursing in my hands, skin so adoring, instincts was all I had.

She lay next to me on the narrow mustard-colored sofa, all her plushies thrown on the carpet, the girly desires she pursued in junior high gone, they had hit the floor of her life, becoming a part of her foundations but inevitably escaping her lips and her eyes.  
Pink lips found flushed cheeks. Lips found lips. Loneliness found happiness. I love you?

I pressed her further and further, hoping for her lips to part, hoping for her approval because I was too cowardly to search for it.  
And so her lips grew impatient, and they parted casually, much too lightly, but I took advantage of my invitation and found the heat to hands clutching hands, her grip growing tighter on mine. She lay above me, her skin pressed against mine, and yet, she held absolutely no control.  
Her moves mimicked mine, her lips and tongue were in my care, her waves of honey dripping on her shoulder, cascading around my face and they became a curtain for our world.

"Syaoran, you need to stop" her heavy words held meaning but they were free of structure.

"Okay" I mumbled into her neck, loving bits of her skin.

"Really..." She groaned, afraid but still.

She remained against me, skin with skin.

"You're the one on top of me" I lightly nuzzled into her ear, a sudden reality call.

And I found myself alone again, Sakura swiftly climbed away and plastered herself against the opposite side of the sofa.  
Her cheeks in a turmoil of teenage daze, her lips parted in the clash of innocence and desire, her waves crashing about her shoulders. I love you.

"That woke you up" I smiled as I intended.  
She grinned, nervously, glancing around my eyes. Never at them.

"I...I didn't mean, well, I just, I like you" she stuttered around her words, but they met me halfway.

"So I've heard" but I like hearing it.

Our eyes slept into each others, and soon enough my skin wasn't alone again.

We switched spots, she lay down against the sofa and I lay beside her, scooting into the small space that remained.  
I tangled my fingers with hers and managed a few blinks into sleep.  
But they didn't last.

"I'm sorry about your dad"

"It's okay"

"It will get better"

I turned my eyes to her, my lips in her direction. She looked back.

"It is...better" what could be better? You're right beside me.  
My hand is with you.

"Something good can work?" Her small question poked into our night.

"And it could work for you, and you know that it will~" I sang back.  
Her eyes drifting into sleep once more.

I would stay, I had to stay given the opportunity, but considering that Touya's room was right across...there was absolutely no risking it. Standing up, I gently and carefully tucked in a blanket across the sleeping beauty and picked up a yellow lion plushie with a red collar that read 'Kero' and slid it beneath her arm.

Why couldn't all things be this simple? Simple as kissing and not being able to control it, simple as laughing and relating lyrics to actual life events, simple as the feelings flourishing for the cherry blossoms in my mind. Oh, I love your eyes and how they're like green crystal kaleidoscopes, I love your lips and how when we kiss I can't feel loneliness, I love your nose and how when you sneeze it scrunches up. They're just thoughts.

And the last I had as I headed for the door.

I left Sakura's room and looked for the fire escape, seeking that elevated sensation of the hotel's roof, knowing the windy smotherings of nature could knock some sleep into me (which I desperately needed after my little romance episode with a seductively attired Sakura).

But as I passed all the remaining stairs and paused my hands on the door, through the window, I caught a glimpse of a lonely soul.

"Xiao Lang...You're up late" the small 'click' of the door alarmed Mother, her long, wispy hair mourning the loss of an opportunity.  
Her eyes a little sad, but it was enough.

"Yeah, well, sleep isn't really in the Li blood, huh?"  
She stood by the edge, her hands resting on the railing next to what looked like a gargoyle. I stood beside her.

"Hah, yeah...your father never liked sleeping" the words in her lips matched the words in her book.  
The ink was alive...it had been alive before me all my life, but never this directly.

"What else didn't he like?" The bravery I was suddenly consumed by didn't phase my mother.  
She simply kept her stare on all the lights in the city, hoping they could reflect in her.

"Don't you remember?" Of course I did.

"Remind me" or don't, I'm not sure.

She paused, hardly to think because I'm sure she still knew, and said, "Well, he hated visitors, especially in the afternoons because that was strictly Russian Literature time...I swear, he paid more attention to Gogol than whatever I had to say sometimes. He also hated loud music, he was always listening to Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata, ironically he hated Tolstoy's "The Kreutzer Sonata", it was his least favorite Tolstoy work. He didn't like it when I went to a local writer's social gathering because men would look at me...and for that very reason he didn't like going with me at times, oh, make sure you warn Sakura that the Li men are very, very jealous beings!" She pointed her amused finger in my direction, wagging a warning with a small smile plastered delicately. I laughed a little, having experienced father's blood and traits.

"I'll try"

She smiled into the stars; hoping one could fall as if to remind her that all beautiful things must end. And maybe that could justify her marriage.

"You know, Xiao Lang, I really wanted this to work...for you too"  
her voice began to crack, perhaps, melt into potential tears. Dear, God, please don't.

"Wanted what to work?" I didn't follow. I didn't know if I wanted to.

"My book, the film contract, I mean, we were so close! Just a few more cities and it could have been a done deal. I wanted you to see it, since I know you never read unless there's a movie adaptation" I gave her a 'oh, you caught me!', mediocre smile, allowing her to cry maybe for tonight.

"Well, that's starting to change" I said, letting her know of all the things read in my mind, all the ink she knew in my mind. She smiled heavily, her eyes brimmed with crystal tears, waiting for the proper moment to let go. They did when I mentioned Grandfather's funeral.

"I'm sorry, Xiao Lang, this isn't like me" she said, her voice healing, the tears rewinding into her eyes, and everything in her broken appearance was fixed. Mother never cried.

"I know. But, it's okay. Maybe he's read the book too" Maybe he's crying too.  
But I couldn't bring myself to these words, not when Mother's dam was so overwhelmed.

"That's what I want also. I want him to know everything on my part, then he could put the pieces together" she didn't finish.

"And then?" The tension carried through my question.

"And then that's it. What else could I want?" She seemed convinced, and I felt convinced.  
What else could she want? A reunion? A happily ever after?  
But her magenta lips dove in happiness. She couldn't ask for anything else, whether I wanted it or she wanted it.

But she was happy.

"Mom...I'm adding _Chasing Singapore_ to my favorite books section on Facebook"

Mother laughed and her thin fingers invaded my messy hair.

"Good"

And I was happy too.


	13. Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Boy

AH ANOTHER MONTH

Anyway, you guys, my words are dying. I have nothing left to write about it seems, or I do...only, sigh.  
I suppose I need some sort of inspirational confidence. I've been lacking everything lately because I've become a horribly lazy bundle of fun, woo summer.

Oddly enough, life is great, woo summer (a little more genuine).

I'm so grateful for all the reviews this prick of a story has received, I know I've mutilated a lot of the beloved characters but...but nothing, they're just words  
and they shouldn't mean so much but they do and I'm sorry. Life can be unapologetic and I like it sometimes.

Moving on, there are two more chapters left after this, so be prepared for a bit more closing drama.  
I think you should all be satisfied with the ending, maybe some more than others, but don't worry, it's a happy one :3

Much love to you all, because you are all wonderful for taking the time to read this, anyway, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: CARD CAPTOR SAKURA BELONGS TO CLAMP

* * *

They were puzzle pieces that when formed became another piece to another puzzle, and once that puzzle was complete, they became a sequence of rotoscoping**. **That's how I remembered you, it's how I remembered Alberto's vague expressions, how I characterized the cobbled streets, and nightly tears, and Syaoran (but not really because his confession came in delicate colors and a bokeh background). And as I flipped through the book that became Europe, I tossed my books aside, reminding myself of school and its grammar and every other square inch left of my last year. When did we return from Spain? Was it when Yelan held in a plethora of frustrations? I couldn't tell. But I never could and especially not now that I stood counting absurdities in my room, memorizing Alberto's number because the napkin had gotten a little dirty and despite the filthy circumstances surrounding a prior biological adventure, I never was a messy girl.

"Sakura, are you done unpacking?"

Touya stood in the hallway, his hair a bundle of European messes. He carried his last bag over his shoulder, aware of the lengthy day Monday normally brought.  
And he thought of the paperwork that could not justify any of the previous nights spent with warm hands. I bet he was in love, or something.

"Mhm, just about. Ah, Touya, I really don't want to go to school tomorrow! ...and I really don't want to open this right now"  
I pointed towards the flippant screen of my Mac. An assortment of files and tabs, necessities at one point essential to my diminishing high school career. At the main center stood my Columbia University account. Within that tab stood my admissions result. Within those key words hung the priority of my future. And yeah, they're just words. Just words relevent to the magnitude of everything placed in the webs of my heart, because as of Syaoran Li, moving very, very far away suddenly seemed very, very lonely.

I don't think I could afford loneliness.

Touya's eyes delighted in the anticipation those bittersweet pixels ignited in his mind.

He said, "Sakura, open it, right now! Hurry, go, go, come on, you've been waiting too long for this"  
the soft ash in his eyes were carefully polished by the bordering outcome of my exhuasted hands reaching for the mouse.

And I hesitated, they hesitated.  
New York in my palms developed in shivers, like photographs in the darkness, kept hidden from the sun and developing under obscurity.  
New York, you are my obscurity and must I grow beneath your shadow?

But it's the picture that counts.

And the process is of nature.

Columbia University, I have mentioned you in the nature of my no. 2 pencils and dense papers.  
And so my hands reached for the link.

"I can't" but the beats elongated the tension, and I stood up from my bed and let my Mac and Touya's complaints be.

I walked into father's library and scanned without intentions, my fingers gracing spines in a form free of flesh and human instinct. They memorized abducted words from foreign translations, savored in names of colorful faces and characters of malice or characters in armor against a defiant life of pretentious lips. In that moment, I wanted to surround myself in a blanket of pages and awake in a gray century. Prostrate in a whirl of worlds beyond my mannerisms, I would then delicately express my confusion, but the nature of it all would be simplistic because it would be instinct. Lost in a past of Times New Roman would be simple because I would have to be lost. Finding a piece of your future shouldn't keep you in the maze, I shouldn't feel loneliness so soon, I shouldn't feel confident in anything when that confidence has confined autumn and warm hands in memories. Memories are books. He could be the greatest book and I haven't even finished reading.

Syaoran Li? Syaoran Li, I think you are to blame. 

* * *

"You're going to be late"

"Oh really? I'm sorry, in all my seventeen years of proper schooling, I clearly must have confused the punctuality of my arrival if I thought waking up at 8 this morning would suffice, so fuck off Touya"

Shuffling my notebooks neatly into my red backpack, I rushed past the kitchen, where Touya insisted on further aggravating my late morning (in retaliation for last night's suspense), and ran towards the door, prepared for a chilly jog to school. In what dimension could my legs afford the comfort of a walk? One in which I had awoken around 6:30 (as usual) and had plenty of time for every morning routine. But nope, not today, not today when Syaoran was back to being 'Syaoran, why are you plaguing my mind?'-Syaoran.

"Hey, Sakura, dad said he would take you"

Turning back, Touya's voice brought my eyes onto the living room. A difference broke the indifferent atmosphere I typically walked from. And where could I walk into now? Frames. Frames dusted by the significance obscurity crushed but they developed in my eyes. Mother developed in my eyes. And it was perhaps the single frame that ignited this peculiarity, the one golden and adorned French frame of lovers past (because the rest remained occupied by childish hands frighteningly clutched against hair or quaint childhood impressions).

"It's nice, huh?" Father appeared behind me, his frown speaking a compliment.

Her hair tamed in the liberty of a French braid suited for her thoughtful skin, because I'm sure God must have branded her individuality as a painter brilliantly carves at the corners of a his impatient mind for, perhaps, an undiscovered love of his colors. The red frock she normally attired in simple occasions, the worn out smile in which a sensation of delicate happiness glided over to and fro, and her silent eyes, shamefully disguising a sense of reality for the photograph; Nadeshiko Kinomoto was unintentionally intentional when it came to angles and lenses.

"Y-Yeah, I hadn't seen this one before" I laced my fingers against the frame, edging against the carved out designs of the old thing. It was still dusty, father cared but perhaps couldn't as much as he would have liked. Otherwise he would have taken out their wedding one (how unfair would that be? In the conscious of a love as dead as the awakening, incredibly). But a lover's sorrow for the other's intents was vivid, and I could not argue. Nobody wanted to.

"She was a lot younger then, I'd say around...seventeen?"  
His hushed voice illuminated the strings harmoniously pulled in our lonely father and daughter words. Touya left for work.

"Seventeen? So then, you guys hadn't met yet, right?"

He paused for thought, and pushed his thick-rimmed glasses against his nose.

"Suppose not" he didn't frown so much.

"Then I suppose that's why she looks so sad"  
he chuckled at my childish optimism, which became a tiresome gesture of my own, having been pushed against a rather turbulant amount of prior events.

"Let's go, you're already late enough as it is" nodding, I brushed my uniform skirt and tugged at my socks.  
Oh, if only, if only sentiments could be tugged simply so. 

* * *

"Madoka Kanai?"

"Here"

"Kou Kanashiro?"

"Here"

"Sakura Kinomoto?"

And the clamor set itself aside, a silent wave of unity washed against the seat ahead of me. Of course she wouldn't reply, where was she anyway? Last night's arrival hadn't so much cost her a sleepless night had it? No, definitely not, if anything my ass should be the one crushed against fatigue and dark circles, in a parallel state beside mother.

"Has anyone seen Sakura this morning?"

Terada-sensei's voice searched across an assortment of indecisively careless professionals in the area of indifference.

"Ask Syaoran, they did just come back from their honeymoon" the girl's lips next to me decided Takashi had been much too funny and expressed in a palpating laughter, contagiously spread throughout the classroom, in particular my row. Terada-sensei cocked an eyebrow in my silent grim of embarrassment, setting aside a blush well aware it would only further incite the bashful circumstance I became a part of.

"You're all idiots" I mumbled, particularly to anyone laughing and took out my pencil case only because I needed something to keep me busy (oh yeah, and fuck you, Takashi).

"Alright, guess that's one absence for Kinomoto and - "

Footsteps slammed against the wooden floors, sliding door slammed against the meddling commotion of common adolescence, and in stepped a honey haired bundle of morning excuses.

"No, no, I'm here!" Sakura panted slightly, a manner relatively similar to all those fictional creations of the animated mind, and slid gently and apologetically towards her seat, eyes scrambling for a proper 'sorry' that would fit in the eyes of Terada.

"Another tardy, and on your first day back? Well, I'll only assume your exclusive visit abroad with Li-san turned out rather pleasant, agreed?"  
Terada-sensei's nonchalant response slapped a useless blush on Sakura's cheeks, a little more than useless on my own.  
The class quietly gleamed with a razzle dazzle rose of giggles, supressed by caves of skin.

A little to my right, a little behind my desk, and through my peripheral vision I noticed a pouty, though elegantly held, Shouta, as he grumbled (particularly to nobody in particular), "I went too...asshole"

He caught my discretion and grinned in his well-known lopsided charm. All the foolishness seeped from his chalk-white cheeks, all the ill-intentions brushed aside and kept captive by the sincerity of surrender. All in all, Shouta Watanabe knew me too well and my maturity didn't mind.

Sakura sat in front of me, she hardly fidgeted with greetings because her own fixation remained against the board.  
And the usual characteristic applied in her behavior, whenever she felt embarrassed, her eyes would compensate for the lack of initiation.  
Indeed, she would be important.

"I need everyone to turn in their Macbeth packets, after school will result in a ten point deduction, come on"  
the class resumed its usual pace, an ignorance to the blissful, emotionally detrimental days the Sakura, Shouta and Syaoran club untangled.  
Everything was too in place.

"Neh, Syaoran.." Little whispers made the board out of focus, as Sakura's hands placed a neatly folded piece of paper on my desk.  
I bet she would have never passed notes before.

I smiled and quietly opened the folded sentiments.

_I hope your mom's feeling better, I felt as if we all left on a bad note. Anyway..I have news to tell you, please linger on after school with me. _

Her grammar and diction was spoken in the regular Sakura Kinomoto valedictorian speech, the one noted print of laughs and carelessness spoke of itself in her clumsy writing. Everything was too in place.

I poked her back and mustered a simple smile for the health of my mother and everyone else involved.  
Sakura returned the gesture, her lips involved in the familiarity of our days.

Everything was in place. 

* * *

"Sakura Kinomoto, what has happened to your life!"

Presently, a girl of passionate fits and trembling friendships prodded in the absence of my puzzled face.

Tomoyo and I sat beneath one of our famously ancient trees in the schoolyard and pretended to eat when our lips were too full with words.  
Missed words of falling and falling until someone decided to catch you. But for that very matter, no one caught me and so I might have fallen for Syaoran.

"My life? Oh, Tomoyo, don't exaggerate so much" I plucked at her untouched ceasar salad, a recent creation from her mother's well-kept garden.

"Don't tell me I'm exaggerating when nothing so fascinating has happened to you"  
she poked in between the aisles of my bento.

"Well, thanks, but mind you, I've had fascinations occur left and right daily"  
a sip from my juice box settled the nerves.

"As dangerously fascinating as a boy?"

She gave me a wink of feigned teenage self-absorbtion.  
I fell for it right away and my lips spoke of pretty feelings I couldn't summon alone.

"I mean, I-I think we're official, nothing's been said but the way he looks at me when he thinks no one is looking - "

"Ah, such oblivion 'tis love" Tomoyo fitted her words in interwoven sighs.

"And then those secret smiles of his, have you seen them? Of course not, I mean, that's why I love them so much - "

"A lovers den of hidden riddles" Her eyes glimmered.

"Anyway, we've kissed already...he held my hand on the way to biology, after choir, isn't that valid for some sort of legitimacy?"

"Oh, and to dabble in the uncertainty of lips, w-wait, you've what? When? Why wasn't I notified? Oh my God, Sakura, your first kiss! Confide in me, go!"  
And the best friend of a century eagerly clasped my empty hand, hoping to clasp every movement transpired by the simple act of kissing.

Laughing because it eased the rotten nerves of mine, I smiled shyly, reminded of it all and said, "It's a bit of a funny story, you know, well, in a way, the entire trip was...a little funny" I darted my eyes into our hands, Tomoyo fumbled with her slippery smile, knowing of the Sakura Kinomoto/apparently Ricci sudden explosion (or rather rude implosion).

"Yeah well, let's not mess with that. Right now, all I need to know is...are you in love with him?"

Oh, leave that precariously anticipated mess but create a new one? Tomoyo, you devil.

Of course, I couldn't answer right away, and so I didn't. But Tomoyo probed upon her own assumptions: well, of course you are! Look at you, all flushed and starry-eyed! What's that? Are those Cupid's wings I hear fluttering in your heart? By God, love indeed!

"You're so lame, Tomoyo" I groped for my shame, hiding behind a casual grin on her lovely face.

"I'm also quite honest...and intuitive"

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the protective tree. The shade argued with the wind, pushing giants of silhouttes until the Goliath was soon dispersed and the misty sun prevailed. Despite the cold nature of natural Decembers, the Tomoeda sun disregarded any invitation and settled above the rather autumn-like embrace.

Hm, autumn.

"I heard from Columbia yesterday..."

Snap, snap, Tomoyo abruptly interrupted our peaceful gaze and hastily sat up.

"What! Did you get in? Hurry, do tell!" And this was a typically vocal pattern found in Tomoyo Daidouji.  
Often, her lips spoke with rapid intentions, and I just couldn't keep up.

"Actually, I haven't checked, not yet, anyway" I twirled with my hair and intentionally glanced away, avoiding all harmful looks.

"Oh, Sakura, you really should" but she only sighed, perhaps aware of the current boy/school circumstance.  
And yeah, the proper choice is clearly, impeccably obvious...it had absolutely nothing to do with the stitches about to burst.

"I know, I'm just..."

The clouds, which seemed to be exclusively in contentment with heavy days, loomed curiously, staring right into me.  
Tomoyo chose to do the same.

"Have you told Syaoran?"

I shrugged, sighed and said no.

She shrugged, sighed and so she said,

"It will hurt"

"I know.." I mumbled.

"But you had this planned for so long"

"Right.." I agreed.

"He'll understand, yeah?"

"Yeah.." I ached.

We sat quietly beneath the branches and beneath the skies, our hands once more clasped. A gesture outgrown for our tender age, but inevitably, a gesture of sleep-overs and giggling fits for pre-adolescent daydreams. And only for that moment did I hope for blatant, impossibly irrevocable rejection. 

* * *

News, like on the television, radio, online?

"No, more like, uh actually, where do you plan to go after high school?" Tomoeda appeared colder towards the end of the day.  
Sakura had fastened the buttons on her lightly colored jacket, her hands tucked inside, shaking, I would suppose. It seemed to be a bad habit.

We walked from school and, preferably, to the cafe just before our neighborhood.

I glanced past our shivering shoulders and at her tight lips, pressed against an uneasy question.  
But uneasy? I had a plan, I always had, remember? Of course.

"I'm applying to Todai, it's weird how we've never had this conversation before, huh? Graduating and all.."  
I let my words trail purposely, trail alongside Sakura's fading concentration. She beamed gently, though confidently, assured with her response.

"Mhm. You're moving to Tokyo then? I always did think you were a little too cool for this small town"  
she didn't smile but she didn't frown. She kept her assured response in the air and grinned a little.

I smiled for the two of us and replied, "Even when you didn't think of me at all?"  
She stopped walking and gated the sudden frothy atmosphere from her parted lips.

The words were not pronounced and so she kept on walking. An undesirable tension broke in pieces every inch of sincerity I had read from her small note. Maybe she finally saw her becoming image, maybe she heard Rika's incredulous pitter patter of gossip throughout Tomoeda Academy on a clear day and let it accumulate, maybe I really was just kidding myself.

But she held a piece in her hand and soon in mine. A warmth accompanied her broken silence, she held on tighter and tighter to my hand, hoping to find much more beauty in the symmetry inhabiting the capsized ambitions added with our laced fingers.

"So you'll study architecture in Tokyo?"

She returned to the subject, but a change of direction began to unfold.  
A clever hint of carefree intentions pushed against her lips and granted her the usual smile.  
She tucked in her hair behind her ear, only to be tucked out by my own hand.

"Mou, Syaoran - " but I gently pressed a finger against her ajar lips and said, "Haven't you ever seen Zombieland?" as I tucked in the same strand behind her ear.  
A delicacy of endearing sentiments bordered her countenance, a procuring gesture she made with her eyes, and she scrunched her nose and laughed only a bit to satisfy.

We neared the cafe from the distance and entered with heavier buttons and much more grace. She held my hand, all the while I plunged into a dizziness of flushed cheeks as several of our classmates, already seated, devoured our present existence. A girl with dark hair, who I once accidentally insulted by calling 'Madoka' when she was indeed her twin sister, murmured to the group she sat with. Soon enough, a gallery of seventeen year-old eyes pounded into our hand holding, cheek blushing, lip teasing existence. And they giggled.

"Where do you want to sit?" Sakura asked, unaware of the tender audience, as she took off her jacket for comfort.

Immediately, I grabbed her hand and slid her past table one and two, three, four, five, six, and several booths later, we sat at the far end of the cafe, far enough from groping eyes and deceitful giggles (nearly as deceiving as their hair).

"So far! They'll hardly notice us at all" she pouted but sat all the same in the selected booth. I sat across from her, well aware of the uninviting tendencies that would arise were I to sit right next to her. Oh, goodness, a socially inadequate riot of teenage squeals would tear each wall down.

But the waitress noticed us, well enough, another classmate it seemed. Sakura's face lit up like a festive lantern upon her entrance, and they chatted like women, complimenting hair and grinning about class work because it always seemed to interrupt shopping time. Eventually, our orders were placed and she left, after she remembered my name (apparently, I looked a lot like Kenichi from her first period).

"It feels as if it's been forever since I've gotten to actually talk to her"  
Sakura sighed into her warm tea. She confided all her missed girl anticipation within flavors of old days (so she said peppermint tea used to be her favorite).

"Good. She didn't even remember me"  
I grumbled into my own drink, tucking insults in the roof of my tempered mouth.

"Oh, don't be like that. You didn't even know her name"  
her teasing eyes melted into her teaspoon of sugar, placidly conforming to my childish retorts.

"...well, at least I had the decency of recognizing her"  
I crossed my arms in accordance to my words. Hmph.

Sakura's lips lightly formed another sweet smile of casual melancholy, but perhaps too well developed so it may have been in pretense.

"Oh...I didn't know you cared so much for the opinion of attractive women" her arms cradled her theaterical concern for absolutely nothing.  
I softened by impulses.

"What, attractive? No...fuck other women" I pursed my lips in the last grumbled words and looked carefully around for a sound response.

"...you would like that, wouldn't you" she sniffled more responses.

"I wouldn't! I mean, l-look at you! You're - Jesus, Sakura, why would you even think that, it's like, ah, you're so - "

Laughter.

Laughter poured from her drowning facade of jealousy. Sakura emerged from the convivial sounds emitting from her pleasant lips, her eyes gleaming with pretty feelings that crept into my sleeve, because for all you care, I keep my heart a little more hidden.

"You were kidding, weren't you?"

Monotone.

Sakura glanced away, looked into my foolish eyes and nodded vividly, covering her bursting lips from my failed realization.

"How incredibly dense you are, Syaoran Li" she sighed, swirling another heavy spoonful of sugar into her tea.  
Another spoon and the amount would be of concern, for now it's still cute.

"Me? Dense? Oh, really?"

She gleefully nodded as she took a small sip of her tea.  
Her hands wrapped around the cup, her manicured nails reflecting gentle assumptions.

"I bet I know something your dense self doesn't" I carefully analyzed my decision in a matter of seconds.  
A hasty confession regarding years of denial, Sakura's green, green, oh beautifully green..., anyway, eyes reluctantly gave in.

"I bet I already know because I am definitely not as dense as you are" but her pride insisted, she tugged at her uniform skirt, I took off my jacket.

"No, impossible. It's only recently that I've discovered the truth of this matter" our eyes tangled in a sweet, preferably short-lived, battle of hollow determination.  
If anything would compensate, it would probably be the urging words that begged me not to let her know, for fear of unwanted embarrassment.

But, well, you only live once.

"Then tell me" the lovely simplicity of her lips were enough.

I tucked away more sentiments because the girl before me was too much.

"You know how things seem so sudden?"

She paused for a proper answer, and because she held more wit than any other seventeen year-old, replied "They don't feel sudden" I smiled back.

"I know..well, it's because, ah this is kind of embarrassing, I guess, well, not to sound like a creeper or anything but.."

I fixed my vision casually into her intent eyes, a sly crimson tainting the canvas of my cheeks, a horrible scenario of macho demise all for the beloved girl I often admired, and because I had an awfully big mouth on ocassion.

"Yes?" She peered into the blush of my discontent but enjoyed every hue.

"I've had a crush on you for a very long time now" one, two, three, four, not it!

Wait, no, that wouldn't save my betraying lips, that wouldn't save any dignity I craved every so often. And so I looked away, it was all instinct, the act of pretending not to care for the ideals in Sakura's kaleidoscope eyes, because the sun would still shine without them. I'm a terrible liar, by the way.

"Like I said, not in a creepy way or anything just like - "  
I glanced with the deepest of discretion in the surfaces of my brown eyes, but it suffocated under the enticement of her soft hands on my own.

The background settled, if one could even attempt to describe, in a sequence of glamorous pens and colors, only inked on the screens and faded pages of those pleasantly, though entirely misleading, drawn shojo illustrations. Not something I would be proficiently familiar with, you know.

She bit her shy lip and glanced down, her eyes partaking in the coy mannerisms that characterized her too well for the health of any man.  
But the shyness fled and the words returned.

"I'm really happy I met you"

And our background had settled too confidently, blurring out the real background, fading away our waitress and her shamelessly deafening,

"_Soooo cuuuute!_" 

* * *

So we're walking.

Walking home takes time.

Difficult words take time.

More steps and steps, ugh, why, why, why!

He's looking your way, and he's smiling even more so about Tokyo. Bright lights, beautiful faces, nocturnal adventures beneath a stark layer of unfinished papers, girls with which to flirt casually and never speak to again, faces to etch in your palms because that's all they'll ever be. Why do I find it this upsetting?

"So yeah, that's basically what I'm going to do, and you?" Syaoran closed his future plans with a basic formality. What about me?  
Oh, if I could tell him as perfectly as he did, without a stutter to my lips, without a hesitation to my sighs, and without a tear to my shredded eyes.

We keep walking home.

He keeps waiting for me.

"I, uh, I have plans too" I smile a little too nervously, speaking in stutters.

He grins expectedly, flicks my nose and says, "Well, of course, you're still Sakura Kinomoto, aren't you?"  
His rough hands shrug my shoulders as if to, by natural occurance, search for a lost fragment of the scholastic girl he used to know (and just that).

"Ha-ha, yes, very much so" I sighed, hoping for fictional faces to set aside the reality matters.  
He remained quiet, waiting for me to tell him the dreams of a seventeen year-old girl.

My house loomed into sight, our distance from it closing, as if to indicate the approximity of our ending high school ideals.  
I had to rush with my reply.

"Since I was, maybe like thirteen? Yeah, I've always wanted to live in New York. I remember some of Grandpa's clients were tough, a little presumptious, New Yorkers that lit up the conference room like no one I had seen ever before. And the stories they would talk about during dinners, it's like a replication extracted out of the cinema, right?" I swept my fears aside and noted the quiet sparks that highlighted Syaoran's pensive eyes. We both remained silent, parting ways in the delays of our spoken plans. We walked in an existential charm of life because we had already planned our exit.

"That's really far away..it's another country, I mean, damn. So, how are transferring from here?"  
Syaoran ignored the moment of brewing silence and spoke as if the magnitude of miles made an exception for him.  
But he was a little mistaken.

"Ah, actually, I'm not leaving for graduate school or anything..I applied to Columbia, and if I get in, then I should be leaving by the end of June"  
before our flickering eyes could count the steps to 'goodbye', we arrived at my house. It was a little darker than it should have been, the sun was middway into another day and the emptiness that a cluster of fickle clouds normally claimed took a day off.

We stood firmly at the gates, like almost any other time. Except it wasn't, because whenever I looked up, the sky was gray and the clouds were gone and I couldn't hide beneath anything. And as I stood there, fidgetting with my feelings and gnawing at my thoughts, I thought, well, Stuart Murdoch, you are right once more. There is no hole in which to hide. This was my fear.

But because I couldn't hide, I stood with Syaoran.

"So, yeah. I've kind of been working for this since freshman year, it means a lot"

Quiet, it laced my hair and held the elasticity of our walk.

Why do we mean so much in so little?

"Yeah, it should, I mean it's like growing up and shit, right?" He was uncomfortable because he was cursing, a subtle inconvenience he slipped by me during our airplane talks. But his disposition elongated the anticipation I couldn't tolerate. He was still, and calm, frustratingly..._OK_.  
Nothing was undone, his jacket was in place, and I was pulling at the threads, but he didn't walk away.

"Exactly! And well, yeah, I actually got the results in today.."  
I looked away, absolutely detesting his aloof display of strange relations. He didn't know me for the moment.

But I couldn't look away for long because words I longed for reeled me in.

"W-what? Already? So did you get in or? Damn, I'm not sure why I'm freaking out so much, I mean, it's your decision, yeah it's been made, I-I know, but it's happening to you and here I am! Stammering like a fool, sorry" he sighed his clumsy discontent into a shaky chuckle, covering his face because maybe that's how he liked to hide.

I didn't feel like it though.

"I guess it is a really big decision huh, I mean, it's got us in a temporary portmanteau of...of.."  
I stopped but couldn't, I couldn't dash the word that slipped the unusual frigid nature my mind found.

"A portmanteau of love"

Syaoran held my hands, and I looked up but the sky was still sad but I didn't care.

"Love? How lame" I mumbled into the air that cared little for my mood.  
Syaoran's rough sketches drew upon my hands and I wanted them permanent. If only, if only.

"Not as lame as you leaving for another dimension" he twirled my hands and pretended as a ventriloquist did.

"It isn't that lame.." But the words left in a mumble too stiff for any compromise.

Dimensions of a distance too improbable.

I liked how he exaggerated though.

"If you ask me..well, no, don't ask me"

He let go, and turned his back to me. I baffled in the steps he stole from me, his eyes characterized in things that would dissolve into particles of sadness.

_Regret._

"I'm asking you, so go on"

He faced me slowly, forgetting that months would devour the lips that kissed too much and eyes that hid so little but encompassed every detail together.

He chuckled, so very lightly that it didn't mean anything and said,"Well, if you ask me...you should go to Tokyo with me and we'll open up some cool coffee shop that also looks like a quaint 70s-styled home. All the cool kids will hang out there, mostly because of the pretty co-owner, but also because we'll play really good stuff. Of course, we'll be studying too because life wouldn't be the same otherwise. How does that sound?" Syaoran grinned like a boy that he used to be and on occasion, still was. He winked the daydreams away and held my hands again, reminding me of reality.

"But...I think Columbia deserves you more"

The chimes that played memories all around me started and ended with his indecisive lips.  
Syaoran Li was the sweetest thing in my seventeen year-old life. And he was letting me leave with that.

"I've had it planned for so long, you know.."

He nodded, a comforting smile replacing the warmth of his hands, "I know, and no matter what happens, I'll stand by you. You're smart and I trust you and I..."

"I really like you?" I giggled because the words he expected from his lips grew as a blush on his vacant face.

"I really do"

Space held an absolute insignificance between us.

* * *

"Fucking piece of shit! Gah!"

Shit, shit, shit.

I held my bloodied hand and pressed it against any piece of fabric around.  
On any lucky day, Sakura would have been fumbling with her first-aid kit, and after laughing, I would have gone home with a Hello Kitty bandage despite my pride.

Today is the day everything was nothing.

Everything, for a twinkling, sorbet frosted, flesh comforting moment, was Sakura.

Nothing, for an elongated, grimy, slate colored noir excerption film moment, was Sakura.

And as I stood in the elongated nothing, I held my wound in my jacket, as it only stained the fabric a bit.  
Temper is a word of which it's corners of meaning have been well stretched over the canvas of my life, much like the sheet on my bed. My bed was always made.

"I'm home.." I announced although I shouldn't have because my hand was bleeding and mother hates blood.

"Xiao Lang! What happened to your hand?" And before I could hide the bleeding hand from sight, mother appeared a bit faster than I could have liked.  
Of course, she had been home all day, and as I suspected, pounding on gallons of Ben & Jerry's.

"I...I, uh...I hit the mailbox"

Between the trickling of blood and the dripping into the fabric, I couldn't muster a lie logical enough for the musings of my mother.  
Because the truth was said, and this she knew, Yelan sighed and walked into the kitchen.

"Really, Xiao Lang? That terrible temper of yours sometimes..." And she came back with the regular first aid kit and motioned me to sit on the stairs.  
We certainly couldn't stain anything else.

Grabbing my hand, free of care and motherly intentions, she took out the alcohol and poured it over my wound, disregarding any thought to my comfort.  
She figured if I was idiotic enough to express sentiments at the expense of my own well-being, who gives!

"Sorry" I mumbled because I was a kid again.

She shook her head and mumbled something but I didn't bother asking because truth be told, I was a little scared.

"Don't apologize. Just think next time"

I nodded and she clipped on the final bandage.  
I hesitated but stood up, realizing her mind must have been drowned in her own thorns and couldn't prick at anything else.

"But, can you please explain to me just why our innocent mailbox had to take such a beating?"

Flinching.

Flinching because a summer job would be in the works and that would require hours taken from me, steps to growing up, steps to leaving pretty faces and experiencing wrinkled, though fairly accepting, faces, and all for the sake a humble living.

A humble living for the fucking mailbox my anxious fists assaulted on the account of anger issues and other girl related issues.

I'll stand by your side no matter what..

What the fuck was I thinking?

Stay?

"Xiao Lang?"

Mother posed my name in a subtle manner of authority.

"Uh yeah, well, like you said, this terrible temper of mine!"  
And I rushed upstairs because discussing bottled feelings with a woman who daily inked them on her skin would not be OK.

Not another word entered my room, and I didn't care because caring meant feeling. Feeling was a luxury reserved for those living in the real world, and I for one, did not know how to do it. And it's funny, isn't? It's kind of a funny little thing that a girl you used to stare at without the least amount of understanding is now everything and nothing.

Sighing, I dropped myself onto my bed and grumbled the sky and the sun into the pillow I hadn't remembered since the insecurity days of junior high.

I turned on my back and came in contact with my ceiling.  
Flat, dull, and incredibly obvious. My lips twitched in the confidence I found to parallel my own appearance.  
Make me forget of everything?

But the oblivion I was granted in the makeshift hypnosis I found was shortly cut my the vibration in my school bag.  
And it kept going and going and going...

"Hello?" My voice was startled and gruff, indicating the previous matters in my mind.

"Syaoran? I got some good news!"

Sakura's voice illuminated the flaky paint screeching at the edge of my bed. I bet hers was pink or some other pastel dream.

"And what are these news?" I forced a smile into the phone, hurting myself in the process.

"You know how you said you would stand by my side no matter what?"  
Her voice quivered, I wish it hadn't.

I thought of the words beside my chest and dampened the depth of its meaning.  
I was seventeen, I was a boy. Do I ever mean anything?

"Erm.." Sakura fell apart.

And her paper lips and paper eyes cut into my own. Maybe it wasn't about being young, or feeling, or meaning, or thinking more than I should, or touching, or anything I thought I had figured out. Maybe it was just about being happy.

"Yeah, what happened?" I coughed before I spoke.

It was silent for long before she professed a love for ambitions.

"I got in! I-I actually got in! Isn't that amazing? I mean, I know I worked hard for this but, but it really did happen! I could just cry, I almost did but then Touya came in and laughed and picked me up and spun me around so all the tears I felt like crying kind of just dried up that way...oh, so sorry about all this, I'm just so happy!"

I bit my lip and coughed another sentiment obscured by the wall that began to build between us.

"Nah, it's totally understandable! I mean, congrats! I'm really happy for you, I knew you'd make it though"  
and the wall fell again, brick by brick and I almost felt her euphoric pink lips on my own.

She smiled some more.

"I'm really happy for you.."

"Thanks, Syaoran"

We both stood by each other amongst fragile things and paper thin walls.

"Hey, can we, like, make a promise or something?"  
Sakura's voice poked a hole between our rooms.

"Sure thing" I replied in the same way.

She never sounded so sure of herself but it was all I needed to hear.

"Promise to make the most of it?"

Grinning because today, I was only a boy in the search for a happiness of my own, I said, "Promise"

We laughed into more words without meaning,  
we imagined into hands that would always hold,  
and we didn't sleep because it was never enough. 

* * *

Wow, super boring lol. This, actually, is a very important chapter because the next one is just going to jump into the end.

Feedback is appreciated, so please, please do so! xoxo


	14. Beach Dreams, Reality Dreams

WHAT THIS IS STILL ALIVE. yes, and I am so sorry for abandoning this thing for so long.

Anyway, I will be replying to reviews in the last chapter, yesh. Also, this is a long ass chapter that is extremely condensed,  
because all the emotional twists and turns I originally intended for this chapter became lost in a blackhole of childish sadness.  
Yes, I am a real human being, I am susceptible to what we may refer to as unhappiness. Also: writer's block = hard times.

Hate as much as can on this, it's definitely not the greatest and you will see why, but truthfully, I'm sick of this story.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

* * *

The first thing on my mind? Sakura. That's what.  
And I think it was the frothy sand sinking the rosy tint of her nails that kept our sun a secret.

The waves crushed the dreams that would ensue June 29th. I knew I hated odd numbers for some kind of fateful reason.

"This is so nice" the sigh of her lips brushed softly against the words that fitted sweetly. No, they weren't sweet because the moment they left her tongue, the words were kissed with salty lips of the beach. Our sticky atmosphere and secret sun ached in loneliness even with the ocean.  
It's like they knew the sentimentality of today.

"Yeah.." I wanted to mumble because I didn't want any more words. I wanted more time.  
I would have gladly burned my two thesauruses in last night's bonfire for more time or less miles.

Sakura's legs dug into the clear sand, pushing against the creases her feet made and curled into the mounds that lay in turn. Her towel had been tossed aside, our bags were locked in my car (an exchange gift for graduating high school), and so we did nothing beneath the sun.  
Our sun.

I liked thinking that we were being clever. Today, society had rejected us. Today, we had unlocked the stupidity that fleshed memories.  
And today, Tomoeda existed in the attics of our past (though presently, our past was approximately two and a half hours away without traffic).

"I feel _so _lazy...is this even healthy? Oh my God, what is this, heaven? Uunf" the sun had long since kissed Sakura.  
She had been made love to by it, and the side-effects were visible.

I sat up, if only to remember the sky was not ours, and searched for the beginning or the end across the ocean. I found nothing but beach dreams.  
As far as my eyes could see...they didn't, because Sakura stood between the distances. Her lips were a hazy 70s pink begging to flourish in my eyes.  
I let them.

Standing up, I dusted the bits of sand that clung to my navy blue shorts.  
My beach towel had been lost somewhere, perhaps tangled with Sakura's, as if the two could provide each other company.

"Ah, where are you going?"

Sakura slid her sunglasses away from her eyes, and though she tried to shy from a high maintenance appearance, they were indeed her Ray-Ban pair.

"Oh, just nowhere" I unlocked the car and scrolled through a list of songs I hadn't _entirely _handpicked for my sunny adventures featuring Sakura (yes, I can see that the playlist title is Sunny Adventures with Honey, what's your point?). My mind had found itself a new room with delicate wallpaper because I was stupid sometimes.

After an indecisive attempt with the playlist that was a little too much of Best Coast, I closed my eyes and hit shuffle.  
Fate didn't matter today, and so I let it decide.

"Besty Coasty all day, err 'day" Sakura walked towards me. She leaned in with curves that melted all of my composure beneath the shameless summer/beach heat, and grabbed my wrists in a swaying motion. She danced to the puppy-love and dank inspired Bethany Cosentino melodies and invited me in her clumsy hips and swings.

"This song makes me so sad…" She tried to muffle her lips upon my bare shoulder, eyelashes and teeth and all.

"We're not supposed to be sad" I felt the warmth of her cheek and leaned my own against her messy hair.

The tips of her fingers found the imprudent appearance of my hair.

"Yeah, but, this is a really soft, plushy sort of melancholy. Like that storybook in Chobits…the one with the bunny and the city, remember?"

It wasn't even that I had fallen for the girl, because too many days confirmed it, it wasn't the disappointment her eyes begged to release, not even her wavy hair I couldn't keep away from. There was something soft and velvet about the way Sakura Kinomoto spoke today.  
The words resonated in her throat and vocalized under tender occasions by the beach.

Brittle, brittle, fucking brittle. I couldn't feel my bones without feeling her own.

"I wish you would tell me, how you really feel...but you'll never tell me…'cause that's not our deal~"

Under bright days, where Sakura wore less sunscreen and dresses with lace, we pretended so much.  
Laughter for ages that kissed our lips without hesitation and all we could afford today were tears, so many for the ocean and maybe for us too.

"Syaoran..." Wet. Down my chest and lost in the trail that it created, a few tears were dismissed and Sakura could only lean in further.

"Aw, c'mon now...I'll change the song" I wanted to be delicate and natural, too, but there was a screen blocking the door.  
And I couldn't open it without revealing more than enough.

"Change the date while you're at it" she sniffled but smiled closely to my chest. Today was an even number day.

Sakura moved away, her hands steady on my own. There was a certainty in her melancholy. Amidst the light and sweet fluff she surrounded it with, Sakura had agreed on one thing. We would become a sad and dusty happiness.

The next song played. A couple passed by, giggling ribbons and thoughtless sandals, their eyes slept within the others and they were awake only in their dreams. The man dropped a can by our car because there was a trash can beside it. It was a miss that suited us.  
The next song played and it was slow and Coasty and broody.

"I want you..so much, and aaahh-I want you so much, and aaah-I want you…so much~" my voice sounded chalky and battered by the closing of June.

Returning to the slow tempo, I held Sakura's hips and swayed until Bethany told me otherwise.  
A ghost, her salty lovers vanished as she reprimanded all negativity aside, even though they would have been proper.

"We should be heading back soon..I'm pretty sure you haven't finished packing" my suggestion arose from an artificial desire concerning bravery  
(or any other virtue willing at the expense of my sake).

"That doesn't matter so much…besides, I told Touya I would be spending the night at Tomoyo's"  
she hummed the repetitive tune, pulled away from my reach and met the high tide.

"I just don't want you missing your flight" following her footsteps, we stood in the waves. They battled against our knees but found no relief.

"You don't?" She splashed a mediocre amount of water at a lazy speed.  
Her two piece bathing suit faded from the racks of Pacsun or Urban Outfitters and gracefully fitted her sun-kissed figure.

"Well, don't tease me like that" I said a little too warmly. The sun wore out the grin we would pretend when time didn't matter.

"Sorry" because she would always be Sakura Kinomoto, her rosy lips delivered the same smile the sun could not defeat.

My own delivery was accomplished, though late. Our teal parasol leaned forward, heavy with the discoveries of our summer. Is it a scientific, emotional or spiritual matter when you acknowledge your future? In any case, when do you say it? This biological, chemical, poetic disarray or occurrence completely insensate of life despite its dependency on it…why can't I just say it?  
Fucking say it.

More thoughts through gritted, mental, metal teeth.  
They weren't chewed away though. All these clustered words and sentimental attachments lay beneath the three pm sun and in my hair.

"You know what would be incredibly useful right now?"

She looked around but heard no ice cream truck.

"I could name a few, but no, not really. What?" Her eyes wanted to know.

"Time travel" the answer hit her like the salty water trickling on her back and sticking like glue.

An illumination paraded in her festive eyes but they settled for a modest glow.

"Oh, if only. Would life ever begin then?" She spoke in her diplomatic tone, smoothened by the charisma in her tongue.

"Not without you and me" the grin returned. She splashed a considerable amount of water this time around and dragged me into it.

"Stop being so cheesy, Syaoran! Seriously, who would have known.."  
Her staccato sentence was held by giggles and the Hello Kitty clip she loved so much (but more so, her hair loved so much).

We tugged at the water slipping in our tangled hands because pretending to drown suddenly appealed to us. Sakura stood with swift in her pace and tackled me further into the sand and waves. In the process, I gripped onto her waist and tickled through the splashes and salt.

"W-why! N-no, haha, aga-again?" Her lips struggled in the indecision of forced laughter and comfort in composure.

"Alwaaaays" I kissed onto her cheek, she fell onto my lap, and we forgot about the 29th, even on the 28th.

Our legs tangled on a piece of earth just for two, we clung on to our sticky and grainy skin. The inconsistency of the waves, we didn't even bother to organize with patterns, washed against our legs and left a residue of today. I wanted to tug on those waves, like a blanket, cover ourselves and spend our frozen eternity warm in the sun.

But they always left and they always teased us, and the sun overheated our exposed limbs.  
It was never in limbo, it was always at some end of the spectrum.

"I can't believe I'm really doing this" she sighed in proper discomfort. She would leave the country and so her nerves were proper.

"Then stop believing!" I muffled via kisses on her honey hair, and she sprinkled water on my cheek.

"Make me!" And that's just what I did. What I had been hoping to achieve all summer. When the days with the heat wave introduced words like 'summer is forever', there was nothing more that fucked with my ideals. But I never made her do anything, and we would be like the tide brushing up our legs.

"Please" I kissed her once more on the surface of her lovely mind. She had pages and pages worth of beauty; our coexistence had only shown me her hard cover. Pastel and old, delicate with a prim fashion sense: Sakura Kinomoto, I love you.

So fucking say it.

Oh, these gritted thoughts and invisible commas.

"I want to go back to the first time, the first place, I want to go back to the first time, the first pla-aaaace~"

Little tunes for deft hearing, and nothing of the intrusive three little words were heard.

Sakura Kinomoto and Syaoran Li remained close and the punctuality of June 29th arrived no second later.

She didn't look back.  
She missed the three words pinned to my chest.  
I didn't look back.  
I missed her soul and short skirts.

But don't get me wrong, we fleshed out every inch of stupidity we could on our last summer's day, if only to compensate for our distance, and conceive new words and definitions. It was her favorite thing in the world: words, words, words.

"So...you left just like that?"

Her eyelashes batted the sun away while she thought for her response.

"The things you do for some, eh?"

Funny, she never really noticed. 

* * *

The sidewalk cracked with aging moments, small moments, where I wish people were fonts.  
Only then could I dismiss them just because their appearance isn't fitting.

"So, hey boy, are ya' listenin'?"

Spit. Lots of fucking spit. Let me remind you, font cannot physically spit.

"Yes, yes, so I turn left afterwards, right?" I replied to the stocky, stuttering fool who had initially tried to sell me a fake Rolex, but because he is mostly human, I could not dismiss him for simply not fitting. He was no Comic Sans that I could save for my ten year-old tastes and now find inappropriate. The man imitated an old New York of newspapers and Wall Street with a soggy cigar boasting from his pocket. So it only seemed appropriate to ask him for directions.

"Aye, noothin' to et" his parents might have been Irish, but the man's words crunched in his lips, roughly making their way to my ears.

"Thank you, good day sir" I left sooner than I thought to ask for help because I was already a little more than late.

The sky hid under a pattern of indecisive hues, all dying into a lavender that would consume the day. I can't remember the exact hour I had stopped counting time because it became nonexistent once my feet met New York. Once my eyes found that spark in rude remarks and filthy hands groping for more, once my instincts stuttered and surrendered, I at once regained confidence. I would meet the girl that inevitably broke my heart each time she was claimed by a city beyond our love. I ached to argue because we needed as many words between our lips, so then to eat them all up, until they were only murmurs muffled between our lips. Everything would escape and nothing would be left.

I clung on to the edge and she taunted me at the top, reaching but never grasping. I loved her all the same.

Turning left because the frumpy old man said so, I reached a gloomy coffee shop brightened, coincidentally, through the reflections of poets and other depressing words hung upon the walls. Her tendencies for a shining demeanor with glum and opposing words grew inch by inch, or perhaps, mile after mile.

But it mattered little what she said for plenty was her presence. Laughing at the artist's melodic wounds when he waved his arms and wailed into the mic, pretending to be idle, Sakura Kinomoto caught my eyes from across the street and fell apart.

It reached her wide eyes and parted lips, that soon she stood up and ran for the door and crossed the street, commencing a mess of cars and profanities.

"Hey, watch it, will ya'!" She shouted against her own fault, but ignored it all the same.

It may have been a little strange that whenever I dozed off in the airplane my dreams always clouded the imperfections of our distance. I dreamed of honey and emerald, a friction between the two splattering against the walls of my mind, only to argue all the more. Argumentative she remained in my dreams. Imperfection at its finest, and still the girl before me did not register.

"Syaoran...I missed you so much" she clumsily fell into my chest and tangled herself with my neck and hair and breath. I nodded into her loveliness and the rosy steps in her mind reconnected with mine. The bridge was built and we met on a grey and sad day. There was no pitter patter from the skies but I could have sworn I felt something wet.

"I missed you too, you have no idea" drip drop went her eyes. Salty remains of uncomfortable thoughts seeped into my jacket, but I only held on tighter, pulling in as much happiness and sadness as I could. Memories knitted together in our pockets, knowing we would always reach in.

The sidewalk no longer cried with our lover's spit.  
Footsteps, barking, chattering, bustling of any kind cringed around our bubble and eventually reminded us.

"Do you want to go inside? Get some coffee or something?" Sakura, though in her meek reluctance, finally let go, offered.

I debated with my facial gestures, pursing my lips, and twitching my eyebrows a little too freely.

"Oh! I so hate how you do that" She tenderly pounded her fist against my chest and scrunched her nose.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Flamboyantly, I pursed my lips tighter as if to kiss the sadness in the sky.  
I ended my facial antics with a shameless wink and she ended it all in a fist pounding manner.

"Don't be ridiculous! Those weird faces you make, they're funny" her fists melted into my hand.  
We began to walk somewhere.

"It's good to laugh, it's healthy, anyway" I sneaked in my prying fingers upon her sides and gently tickled because Sakura had the nerves of a Chihuahua.

"Gah! S-Sya_oo_ran! S-stop it, it tickles!" She slid away from my reach, but I kept her caged in with my other arm, her body twirled into a tickling fit.

"Nope. This is your punishment for leaving me alone three whole months"  
we finally arrived at a bench near a park rid of joggers because it was a little too breezy.

"Hey, it's not like I wanted to. Besides, you have all those _other _girls to please you"  
it was with light intentions, I knew, but her mild emphasize on a misplaced jealousy ate her up bit by bit.

"Oh, come on, Sakura, they just work with me during internships" I eased my way into her wavy locks, twirling carefully.

"Must be quite fun then, hm?" She leaned her puzzled mind onto my shoulder, a combination of words and actions that cried against one another.

"Fuck yeah, a total blast" I leaned my head against hers with deliberate sarcasm in our air.

She giggled her lips further into my shoulder, perhaps avoiding the cruel intentions of her wretched envy.  
It colored her green with plenty of chaos.

"I'm sorry, I hate it when I get that way" it was a possibility that I did too, but she knew of it. There was a mess in her eyes, cluttering photographs of memories and hands miles away, and it seemed she had run out of storage for them. I tugged at her hair as a lazy cat played with a ball of yarn, and she didn't flinch. I pulled harder, trying to pry away the sensitive demons clawing at her eyes. The yarn was stretching too far.

"If anything, I should be the one feeling insecure. Is that guy still all fuckin' 'ooh hey derr bb grl' with you? That, what's his name?"  
She immediately bounced off my shoulder to glaze my view with lidded eyes of disbelief.

"Julian? He used to be one of my roommates. How exactly was I supposed to avoid him?"  
The name reeked with rock n' roll infamy and every European alley of it. But maybe I'm thinking about The Strokes.

"We should have, like, printed a huge poster of me, maybe get that shirtless picture you couldn't get over -"

"I said you looked good. You simply outstretched the compliment for three days" Sakura's countenance blushed with the reliable embarrassment I had always known throughout high school and summer. (Thank the lawd for Skype).

"Alright, whatever helps you sleep at night...because I know thinking about me shirtless must keep you up, ahem - " she gently nudged at my side, looking away until the blush did too, as I continued, "Anyway, we could have hung that poster on your door, drawn a bunch of hearts and cutesy little shit around so it's like you're so helplessly in love with me that no one can build any sense around it"

Her deadpanned expression cleared any misunderstandings.

"Oh, I knew you would understand" and I pressed her face close and kissed it lightly.

Her lips grumbled insults too soft to be directed towards me (if I happened to understand her childish vocabulary when profanity was necessary).

"What was that?" But I poked into her eyes and smiled casually at her brewing charisma.

"I said you're crazy..." She half mumbled but half didn't care as she lazily looked away and pretended to invest her interest upon a sole jogger and his loyal dog.

"Yes. Yes I am, but -"

"Oh please don't say it, Syaoran"

"If I am, it must be -"

"Your madness is nonsense if you say it" Sakura's lips pushed a delicate smile of flattery in denial.  
At some point, the two of us didn't care but loved all the same. It was a blessing, this distance that now betrayed us, it was a curse.

"I'm crazy for you, Sakura Kinomoto" I winked with the most absurdity in my lips and eyes, flashing teeth and leftovers from a 70s swingers party.

"I suppose you've made me just as crazy, Syaoran Li" her sighs slept in my chest, ignored the evolutions of our romantic statements, and produced heart beats a little too fierce for numbers.

Flickering moments passed with each blink, our heat exchanged unspoken sentiments from a caged distance, and they didn't mind the solitude that would return. We knew, we knew all too well.

We just didn't want to.

"I missed you too much, Syaoran.."

She whispered withering sentiments that flaked each time they were typed.

"Yeah, me too"

But the hurt was always there, always shaking in our throats, always poignant and sharp in our words and gestures.

* * *

"Do we have to go?"

Sakura sprayed a perfume of roses and pretty girls.

"Oh, come on, they're my friends, and you'll like them, trust me" she dangled two different earrings, modeling for a nonexistent audience.

I sighed and fell onto her bed, and massaged my face just to feel satisfied with other people.  
And not just her.

"Sure, sure I will. I just thought today would be about, well, us"  
but the dissatisfaction corrupted the beauty in Sakura's evening glow, and the rest of the gray weather ate up her blushing nude lipstick.

"It will be! But just these couple of hours, they can be split, can't they?" She sat beside me on her French polished bed and slithered her hands on mine.

Fashion remaining a top priority, it didn't surprise me to see a nude palette of colors for the fall season.  
All the floral left on summer's closet, Sakura brushed aside her mousy waves and wanted to smile. Anything for the comfort. I wanted to press my fingers against her firm confusion, push against her cheeks and complete that smile, but my bones were fragile and my tongue let her know.

"I guess"

And thus ensued a night of faulty stares and a little less than sober words.

Somehow, the way Sakura's hands stuck with my own served as a sure reminder of our unity, especially when we left her apartment and men discovered the gem embedded in my heart (but mostly by my side).

But the gentle greetings and all too familiar faces I could not distinguish in my own mind compensated in Sakura's lips and pearly white replies.

Amongst the foreign peculiarities Sakura loved in the crevices of Manhattan, I found a pleasant distaste for the sights. A baffled animosity harbored woes for the romantic I liked to hide. A simple, imaginary heartbreak secluded in the filthy corners she kept pointing at. Her nails were too polished and her eyelids were too bright for this city. But she loved it all, she laughed upon recalling antics of strangers she called friends, she tugged tightly against my arm and snuggled bits of newly stitched memories within the past three months in Manhattan. By the end of her happiness, I didn't even feel like capitalizing the first letter of the borough.

"Hey, Syaoran, you alright?"

We made a stop at another old building (because I had stopped caring for the monumental history and superficial attractions, every building aged roughly).

I was trying to be alright, so I told her, "Yeah, I'm good" but the wording was below her ivy league standards and my mind became sour and I didn't want to talk or use commas because she would realize how broken my sentences were in every step we took.

Sakura's countenance drained every ounce of enthusiasm for the colorful environment.  
She released my arm and buzzed for apartment number fifteen. Huh. Another odd number. But it was more like, another fuckin' odd number.

"I'm sorry...I'll make it up" she quietly spoke avoiding the disregard in my stare.

Our rings were finally answered, and before Sakura could identify herself, the door loudly unlocked for us.  
She glanced back at me in hopes that all apathy escaped my face, and she did nothing but smile.

"Well, here we are" and those mere words unfolded into memories. The small announcements we liked to glamorize with fancy gestures at our doorsteps lit her eyes up. I grinned lazily because the strict weather bothered me but standing and holding hands with the Sakura Kinomoto didn't.

The white corridors elongated the ennui I once experienced in one of Sofia Coppola's films, which was to be expected, but certainly not anticipated. Wallpaper detailed with thin, baby blue pin-stripes did nothing for me. Chalky, tasteless, I was devoured in my own jaded vitality for a city I quickly grew to resent.

Looking ahead, a cascade of careless curls and loose, pale, off the shoulder sweaters proceeded to reach out for me. There was a trimmed vibrancy still upheld in her lovely face, a maturity that slept evenly in her eyes, lips and cheekbones kept the beauty she found with Tomoeda.  
The difference was that she did not belong there anymore. And I think that's what hurt, too.

We reached the apartment and before she could leave the discomfort and tension I managed to fuck with, I decided that acting like a little bitch would lead me nowhere.

"Sakura" my hand found her shoulder empty and cold.

Eyes all over and uncertainty well-read on her features, Sakura responded in gestures.

"Before we go in, I'm sorry. For, for acting like a jerk, I -"

She giggled midway and I cut my own sentence.

"Syaoran...seriously? Don't worry about it. In your position, my girly hormones would have driven me crazy. You're doing great my kitty cat!"  
The light shimmer on her eyelids did not lie. Sakura's looks spoke kindly for her words, and her words knew exactly how to soothe my own.

Nodding because I was preparing conversations in my head for an evening of social strangers, I held her hand and tucked away the bitterness.

She turned the doorknob but also kissed me into simplicity.

* * *

"No, no, no, you, my sweet friend, are certainly drinking tonight!" Oh you son of a bitch, Rostam.

Words don't mean anything. And you know they shouldn't have when five tequila shots, three margaritas, and several Smirnoff's later, I abandoned a polished sophistication of le heart. An exchange of diplomacy became fuzzy and incomprehensible. A starry-eyed evening of _moi je jou_! coupled with resentment for ladies with C-cup perfection shook my inhibitions bravely.

You see, shy in the spring, I nurtured my summer and fall wounds with nature's loophole, because nothing should ever feel natural when you're drunk.  
And therein lay the beauty: an artificiality I could never pretend.

"Whoa, hey there, you OK?"

Syaoran's hands settled on my shoulders, an attempt to hold any sense of sobriety that my stumbling vocabulary clearly displayed.  
My thoughts were contained, but my lips spilled and spouted, spouted, spouted a fountain of flustered sentences.

"I am totally cool. Totally. Am I cool, Syaoran? Yes. I AM." without a trace of reluctance, I grinned grand ideals in the few days I would know him. The few days we sealed for the two would be kept locked in some drawer in my apartment. Suddenly, the Polaroid's we'd be sure to take could be the only thing left in that drawer.

Or maybe it's the senseless inebriation I adore a little too deeply for a relevant night.

"You're not, but you are funny" amidst the young folk laughter with their flushed, pasty faces and dances to Toro y Moi, the party enthusiasm surged with a trembling confidence all through me, but Syaoran remained with the loose smile falling off his awful facade. He spun around in his stool, and called for a shot of something or another and my eyes lit up because alcohol is friendly. But instead of offering my slippery lips a sip; he shoved the burning concoction down his handsome throat, and faced the party like he had faced most Tomoeda Academy classmates.  
Apathy.

Apathy resting on his reliable features, pronouncing the impatience his thick eyebrows wore out during the first hour.  
You would think by now I'd have him figured out, at least the instant I caught him outside of the cafe.

"I can be cool. So, let's dance!" The psychology Syaoran Li preferred became tiresome, but the pretty stereo beats bounced off his shot glass and straight down my throat. Right where I wanted to be, I stood on the last remains of trust my legs promised, and pulled Syaoran towards the dance floor.

"Sakura, I don't dance"

Yep, rigid he was.

"You do with me, because when we're dancing, we are happy!" I pressed my fuzzy state of mind against his body and hoped he would melt.

"Not in public" he muttered and cared for the other inebriated bodies grooving around us.  
Nobody cared.

"Oh c'mon, who's watching? Your pride?"  
Sleaze. Sleaze in my shakes and forceful rhythm.

"24/7 vigilance, I'm afraid"

I felt like crying.

Feeling the floor moving beneath my cute, velvety pumps, I followed the gliding floor wood, tracing every speck of glimmer flaking from the disco ball.

"Sakura, hey, what are you- gah, hold up!" I wanted to swim on the dance floor and hope every spot of disco magic kissed my sad eyes, more so than any drink I had abused tonight. But the only thing that kissed me, kissed me a bit too feverishly, was the flooding in my mind.  
I think that's why I wanted to swim.

"Sa-ku-ra! There you are, Estella was just asking me about you, and fuck, I realized I hadn't seen you all night! How you been?" Five inches above me, a boy I had met through some excellent fascination and depression for domesticated birds, babbled social speak at my face. Those tears?  
A beautiful disguise, they morphed into a sparkle, something for my charisma.

"Oh, just been around! Tryin' to get tah' know the city folk" I managed to smoothen out my flailing grammar because it was somewhere gasping for breath beneath Mr. Jose Cuervo (you tricky, warm, bastard).

"Cultural shock, much? I bet Japan's on another level, aye?" I pressed the mute button on his lips and offered a convincing gesture of interest. Around my head, somewhere in my chest, I felt the need to pout and sulk, vomit on this man's pretentious flannel (it's fucking New York, go die in Seattle, grunge-)

"Sucks, man, you know?" The last bit was the only bit I wanted to know.

"Oh yeah, totally" I didn't think, so I spun around and shoved my body away from the conversation.  
I wanted to cry.

I also wanted to vomit every word I found myself attached to. Ideals for my own mind and beliefs every other drunken fool chose to identify themselves with. There was a sound recognition in all of this: I became bitter when I believed everything that buzzed through the cracks of my thoughts.  
Thoughts raging with alcohol.

All those pretty drinks only made me feel pretty when I knew I was drunk.

Now I believed it, and I believed it so much, I may as well have found my own religion.  
Chained to my own thoughts, my bitter and melancholic thoughts, they were all I knew.  
I believed so much in so little, or so little in so much, tonight.

Some Washed Out track bounced off my skin, but it floated right through me. Syaoran's voice followed after.

"Oi! Sakura-"

He switched to Japanese.

The language filled my overly confident mind with sharp nostalgia, mutilating those refined dreams of Columbia and working at some fashionable magazine, typing words for the price of another pearl necklace. And as it tore those beautiful dreams, Syaoran's autumn eyes appeared. The composed frustration and awkward impatience faced me. He shook my shoulder, and I shook my pride away. I was drunk enough, and it's all I believed.

"So, then?" We vanished from the apartment, and my body skipped the transitional steps from the dance floor and drinks and slut-waves, to the same pin-striped hallway. The ennui drilled a hole into my skull, and a minor headache followed because the interior design was awful.

"_So. _Kiss me" I giggled as my fists clenched the negativity slipping from my mind, it was a grasp before they reached Syaoran's ears.

Believing in whatever I said, I pressed Syaoran's stiff body against the wall, and fell into his chest, lips and grins against bits of his neck.

Groaning because the seams of his patience became loose, or because he liked my tongue, Syaoran pressed me tightly, a violent urge from his hands forced our heartbeats against each others. My arms hung around his body like a flimsy Christmas tree decoration, wanting every pulse in his warm skin, breathing in the old scent I cried for the past three months. A scent of soft unhappiness was all I caught.

"You didn't answer my questions"

The same unhappiness slept comfortably in his question; nearly in the same manner I closed my eyes against his jacket.

"What did you ask?" I mumbled because I had given up.

Syaoran and I never let go of each other.  
I think he was afraid I would float back into the glamorous red lips kissing and singing and dancing inside.  
I just wanted to cry.

"I don't want to repeat it all..." There was a thin sigh following his words, a shaky sigh, a contrast to his limp body and slow hands.  
There wasn't much movement to Syaoran Li tonight.

"Is it embarrassing or something?" For all the drinks I could remember, my lips organized every word precisely against the pronunciation I needed.

I didn't hear anything else, but Syaoran's riveting pulse, bouncing back and forth with mine, and nuzzling the painful tears glossing my eyes.

From the hallway, we could still love each other the way I loved him from across the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, any ocean willing of more salty water. Nodding off into his chest, I realized crying was all I missed.

* * *

There were some chimes and then some smoke in the air.

And then there was a lot of darkness.

"Bro, wicked shit went down, that's what"

I really wish the guy with Skrillex's haircut would just shut the fuck up.

But he never did, all fucking night, and truthfully, I wanted to curse with my fists and make sure every swear would reach his lips, or his eyes, any part of his face would be ideal. He reached for his red backpack next to Sakura, just as he nudged her from a tunnel of sleep.

"Himay, or princess, I forgot what it was called, you're on my shirt"

Her waves rested on her flushed face, rosy even in the dead of morning when we all felt like broken mannequins. Yawning, Sakura stood up, limbs stretched in a newborn kitty cat fashion, only to rest back down on the mustard colored sofa we found somewhere in the night.

"Ah, sorry" but she sprung back up for Skrillex-man's shirt.

Glossy eyed fashioned with smudged eyeliner, Sakura resisted the sleep monster, and reluctantly faced some bit of Tomoeda.  
She meekly smiled at my morning hair and looked down, avoiding, perhaps, what she may have considered a night of lights and casual sex.

But because her clothes remained, she didn't worry.

"So…" I started but never finished. My mind felt soft and foggy, still in the mist of the Manhattan rich kid atmosphere, because somewhere in the recesses of last night's glitter and whatever the fuck was on my face, I missed walking Sakura home.

A small whimper arose from Sakura pouty pink lips as she rubbed away the smearing of last night, she said, "I feel like Kesha" and then a finished burp.

"Did you say that with a dollar sign?"

"…no, sir"

A tiresome and playful sigh, and I replied, "What are we going to do with you?"

Between the fuzzy, emotional gibberish mumbled and shouted throughout the night, Sakura's unapologetic charisma evolved into an American sense of flippant youth. Giggling into a ball of comfort, she lay on my lap and pressed her fingers on my cheek.

"You've gotten so handsome…" I grabbed her fingers and cupped my own face with her hands, holding on to the frailty of her wrist. Muñeca.  
The stone-carved, rhinestone bird chimes bounced off her countenance and illuminated the vitality she lost somewhere in the disco grooves.

"It's only been three months" I lay my head on her hand in attempts to replace my heart, or Manhattan.

"Three long, awful, slow, cold, sad months" I bent down and met her just inches before her lips.

"You were sad?" it felt like a frothy whisper kissing her lips where my own should have melted them.

"Mhm..." she mumbled and her breathe felt like a heat wave trying to reel me in.

For all the shine in her hair, I couldn't fathom any sense of dull melancholy.  
Maybe it washed down the drain in her shower, or it was beneath the faint scent of cigarettes containing fragments of ideals.  
She looked too pretty to even be remotely sad.

One of the fragments cut through my chest and made a bloody nest in the shelves of my heart.

"Don't be" I leaned down to kiss her forehead, but I also knew that if my words were ink of a pen, the ink would not show up, so I would have to scratch at the paper, roughly indenting my words, wanting them to be displayed. Truthfully, I preferred to remain invisible because the paper was delicate.  
Sakura's giggles reached my ears at about the same time.

"Hey, origami love cranes, get up, up, we need to fix this place before Rostam gets back" my tunnel vision of Sakura's face expanded into the flooding of red cups, cigarette butts and lingering bodies on the verge of purging last night's recreational laughter. The offensive girl before us had dark, long hair sweeping at her waist where it faded into a silky lilac. I almost couldn't tell the color of her skin because of all the ink echoing into different corners of her body. I had collected her name somewhere in Sakura's introductions, and still, the only translation from inebriation to English I could conceive was koi fish girl because she had once eaten raw koi fish even though she was now vegan.

Some of these Manhattan tales left me in a brick-like state of dust and confusion. Their contradictions bore absolutely no crack in my eyes, they hit and hit, and no sense of comprehension broke through. It was the same contradiction of Sakura and I that battered me into more confusion.  
A spectrum of missing, and loving, and hating, and crying.

I'm sure we missed and loved and cried and hated the same things by now.

I wasn't sure what I missed or loved more, Sakura or Sakura and I.

"Sorry, wait, where exactly did he go?" Sakura dusted herself off the sofa and regained the usual prim and proper composure I hadn't seen since Tomoeda.

"Went to pick up Julian from the bus station, he should be back in a couple minutes" koi fish pinned her hair up in a floppy pony tail and shoved about some of the slumbering guests about until she found enough space necessary for cleanliness.

"Julian? That's great! I haven't seen him for a while now, man, I bet Brooklyn was good to him" the sudden, smooth and melting sigh dripped from Sakura's lips and bounced off my ears in a manner most screeching and bothersome, I almost felt jealous. Julian this and Julian that (alright, some are exaggerations on my part; still, I wanted to punch this asshole for two months now).

"Oh, God, no, if you thought he was in love with you before, just wait till you see the new lucky lady in his life"  
koi fish laughed and it sounded like growls to my sentiments.

Sakura nervously glanced back at me, her eyebrows knitting into a self-assured anxiety she might have rehearsed forwards and backwards in her mind. Fucking Julian, dis guy.

A trembling half smile and she shrugged off the uneasiness.

Secretly, the expectations of my mind waited for a kiss or some other prettier bit of apologetic remnants.

"And by lady, I mean man"

Koi fish struck a solid chord in Sakura Kinomoto's posture.  
She dropped the white trash bag clutched firmly, and her knuckles loosened and her eyes did too.

The lips that hung loosely for too long, suddenly slipped too easily into a smile convinced that Sakura loved me and no other Julian wannabe Casablancas could sway her into an indefinite oblivion of dirty, secluded, New York corner of love.

"W-wait, wha- what is this?" her stutters maneuvered through my relief and she made me a mess once more.  
And then I felt too old to be insecure, and afterwards, I felt like my father before meeting my mother.

"Chill! Ha ha, I meant to say, the only person he'll ever be in love with from now on, is himself"  
she picked up Sakura's mess from the sofa and more bodies disappeared from the ground to the white beds clogged with other guests.

"Right, because he wasn't before" the two girls giggled and girly-sparkled into their hands over an invisible man I had designed already in the obscurity of our relationship, where infidelity existed and I could almost strangle it.

I wanted to prod around their words and secrets, wonder and dissect their comfortable conversations where I became an outsider and Sakura morphed into a Manhattan building and I was just a small prick insulting a homeless on its corner. So, I did another sensible act and left the room, unexcused.

If I wasn't missed then, I couldn't be missed now.

Tracing the pin-striped walls leading me towards the exit, an after taste regarding my resentment for this place struck me like a tidal wave. I could have been cleaning inside, and then holding hands with Sakura while she missed me some more even while I could mold her hands into my own and kiss her like she existed in the same air that I did.

Walking into the street, I disappeared and became a miniscule particle of sadness.

I don't want to see you, I thought last night;  
I don't want to see you building your own empire of happiness while I can't even form a structure that you're not a part of.

"Syaoran!"

Her voice was soft and velvety with sadness like a Camera Obscura song.

Sakura rushed to my side despite her unkempt morning appearance.  
Her face was an island amongst the waves of her honey hair, eyes shone like a field of wispy grass, fragile and thinly layered by her uncertainty in me.

"Oh, hey" I mustered for the only girl I loved.

"Um, why did you, or um, what are you, uh, doing?" she didn't even know why she followed me, just like I didn't know why she giggled and twirled her hair so much when she was supposed to be sad. I felt possessive and unfair and manipulated by the very sweetness she lived with.

"I just, um, needed some fresh air, I guess…" and still, the words that came out of my lips lied some more and grinded into a matted pile of suppressed sentiments. And here I thought we had bottled all our sentiments for the sea that beach day.

"Oh, well, are you okay? You've been acting a little strange since you got here, I think" I felt chimes in her lightly colored voice. If she were a color, she would be rose and I would be bitter and green. Even when I wrote down every moment she smiled and pointed out the quirks of her new home, I would easily find a flaw and stretch it for miles until it build a bridge back to Tomoeda.

We leaned against the apartment complex and settled in the comfort of my silent response.

"If I have done anything to upset you or…you know, if something is wrong, you can tell me" when did she grow up before me? Last night had not been about us, it had been for Sakura and all the disco ball youth gathered on a dance floor rid of Sakura's former inhibitions.

My fists felt Tomoeda when her hand brushed by.

And I felt like a childish, fucking idiot.

"No, it's not you, it's everything else"  
I pressed my palm against hers, and hoped to God she knew what I meant.

Her lips remained sealed and her eyes looked glossier than before.

"Is this everything…bigger than us?" she shook a smile on her face in attempts to shake away any embarrassing sentiments that could invoke tears.  
I squeezed tightly onto her hand.

"It's about 6,000 miles bigger" I was an architect and a lover of numbers.

More than that, I was a lover and Sakura was my favorite number.

"Oh…" but she loved words and there were more poets in New York than I could have imagined.

"I'm sorry" as much as I didn't want to ruin our time together, I wanted to ruin Manhattan to pieces.  
I wanted Sakura to hold a piece and carry it with her back into Tomoeda.

"Well, I mean, we have another day together, right? It doesn't have to be so horrible, Syaoran, you know. We talked about this, before I got here, we talked so much, don't you remember? Things would be okay, and you would love me from afar even when you thought I couldn't feel it, I would, because I'm doing the same" her skin felt like marshmallows and she plunged into the melting pot of romance and ideals. New York was a bus station for idealists getting from point A to point B, and I felt the capacity reach its maximum.

"Sakura" I brushed our hands together like a paint brush to canvas.

I felt like the canvas and Sakura was a rosy paint brush leaving traces behind.

She looked up and her mousy nose and lips scrunched whenever she felt nervous.

"Please don't fall in love with anyone else"

I felt silly and child-like, but Sakura stood on her toes and kissed me into her marshmallow skin.

"Why, rain, why today!" a pouty, pretend kitten Sakura grumbled into the curtains of her stained window. Somewhere in the inner workings of my mind, God had ventured into and left thinking, 'A-ha! This fine, young, non-pagan, bright man's love for the cherry blossom must be kept inside a room for some time, now, what does this lovely young lady despise more than math homework? Why, of course, rain!'  
And so we remained in Sakura's bedroom for the rest of our happily melting lives, the end.

(loljk)

"Oh, come on, we could stay in and nap on your bed like two warm churros" I grinned a broad sense of happiness into Sakura's messy hair.

"Syaoran, that is the cutest and absolute worst analogy I have heard all day"  
grinning back, she fell onto her bed and stretched because our morning jog had gotten the best of lengthy limbs.

I fell beside her and brushed aside a couple wet strands of hair off her face.

"I don't see why we couldn't have showered together"

A bright, luminescent blush covered her from head to toe at the very idea of purely naked skin.

"Because you would not have let me wear my swimsuit" she replied in a faux-upset manner and turned her back to me.  
Today, Sakura opted for an off the shoulder, black sweater and teeny-tiny shorts that loved me so.  
I traced zoo animals onto her exposed shoulder and she suppressed a giggle onto her hand, delicate in her own ways.

"Now, why should that even be an option, I'm sure you don't normally shower in your swimsuit"

Her coy countenance turned to my own, and her lidded eyes were warm with curiosity.

"I don't normally shower with handsome men" she bit her thumb and looked away.

"Phew, and here I was worried" I received a playful punch for that one.

"Pft, whatever, you're too jealous for your own good, Syaoran"

Her fingers laced my t-shirt with a heavy look in her eyes. They swirled with late adolescent sensuality. Or so I hoped that's what it was.  
Because one time, I dreamt of Sakura on a pink, almost frothy, cloud in Tomoeda and I was the only boy worthy of her naked company.  
She was naked and it was beautiful and the dream ended in my favor.

"And you, missy, are too pretty for your own good" I leaned in to complete that dream.

Dreaming was fucking right.

"Mou, Syao, it's only 12 in the afternoon" but pretended to protest my warm advances before meeting my lips in a gentle agreement of souls.

Daydreaming was fucking right.

"And what time is it in Tomoeda?"

With a couple swift movements, because I was clumsy and completely uncool, I pinned the cherry blossom onto the crisp, white bed sheets and examined her like one of the butterfly exhibits I had seen in Hong Kong when I was five. The only difference became evident in the caressing of thighs and shaking sighs, and other soft beauties of Sakura Kinomoto.

I took a breath of reality and ventured into a secret place Neutral Milk Hotel once told me about.

Something broke into me, something that tasted like flesh and purity all at once, something that clashed what I once felt ideal and now bit my lip into reality. She pressed tightly into the friction our lips sweetly increased, her tongue lightly touching the surface of my lips, in exchange; I invited my own and tasted more reality and more idealism that ever existed in my floating mind.

Hands all over, all over my beating chest, clutching on to the fabric of our distance, Sakura strummed with my feelings more and more with each and every teasing touch, but she didn't care. My shirt didn't either, and so it left.

"Mmm…Syao" I took her words as a granted access and plunged into her neck.

Nibbling quiet sentiments, I felt her stomach and the butterflies and all those other fuzzy associations that latched themselves to us.

"Come back with me, yes?" I didn't look to her flushed features for an answer. I searched in her neck and in her collarbone and anywhere else but her eyes. There was a rush in feeling Sakura's eyelashes brimmed with nothing but sweet fidelity and sweet purity for the one thing she could not say yes to, even if she wanted to. I refreshed my broken thoughts of the party's emotionally quenched question I presented to her.

_Will you stay with me? _

_Wait for me, please._

_If you wait, I think we would be so very happy together. _

_I love you. _

_Do you love me? _

She mumbled her invisible answer into my forehead and found security in my hair.  
Her hands needed to keep busy, but in between lips, she found a proper response.

"I love you, I love you to pieces, Syaoran"

I don't know where we loved more.  
In our innocence and rosy days where walking home and holding hands became a habit,  
In our European hysteria of genetic disappointments and heart-shaped deception,  
In the very room in which we melted every bit of nostalgia onto the bed and never looked at geography  
to determine the distance of our eyes and lips and tears, or that at any moment, I would be torn.

So when the morning would arrive, I would pack my sentiments and pretend reality existed still.

And when everything would align,  
Sakura would look around and realize reality and expectations were different rooms, with different people and different intentions.  
And I would still want to stretch the flaws existing in our realities far into Tomoeda,  
because dreaming was fucking right, even though reality was an eyelid away.

The morning arrived, my flight awaited in its New York punctuality, and Sakura Kinomoto became a dream in Tomoeda soil compiled with aching heartbreak.

* * *

Well. That is the second to last chapter. OoOoOh, what's going to happen guise? Do they work at the long distance thing or is Syaoran's heartbreak beyond repair? Hmmmm, well, the last chapter is next and it will definitely tie everything together...like it should. Feel free to flame, this chapter is long and stupid. xoxo


End file.
